Inception: Rise of the Heir
by xpaintxthexskyx
Summary: After the murder of Hepzibah Smith, Tom Riddle disappeared for ten long years. He sank deeper into the Dark Arts & pursued knowledge that others could only dream of, consorting with the darkest members of wizarding society. With his eyes set on North America, he has no idea that the magic he so desperately seeks will shape his life & his inevitable future for years to come. TomxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

 **Chapter 1 as of 4/4/2020 has been revised, I wrote the first few chapters a LONG time ago and my writing has had definitely grown quite a bit since then. The next week or so the rest of the first few chapters will be slightly tweaked so the story flows a tad bit better! But not to worry, the story has NOT changed or been altered in anyway! ENJOY!**

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"Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster... for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you."

― **Friedrich W. Nietzsche**

* * *

The fog across the harbor was thick, unnaturally so for the month of April. The sun in the sky was slowly rising as the massive ship made its way from the bay, into the harbor where it would eventually dock, the waves lapping and licking at its immense frame as the ship started to slow its speed.

The hour was early and aside from the crew who scuttled back and forth along the top deck making preparations in order to dock, most of the passengers were sleeping below deck, in their rooms & cabins, peacefully dreaming as the sun had begun to poke its fiery head above the horizon. Towards the bow of the ship, the morning mist hung over the deck as a shadowed figure stood alone against the rails.

He was alone, dressed in a long dark coat, neatly dressed and waiting silently against the mist that had gathered around his feet, his face focused on the dark water beneath him. Aside from the clothes on his back he carried nothing, except for a small weathered suitcase that lay directly at his feet. He had watched the water swell and rise against the hull of the ship for hours, lost in his thoughts and musings, only looking up slowly as he watched the foreign cityscape approach. A long pale hand rested firmly on the iron railing, as he took in the foreign skyline he had never seen before. His eyes were dark and intense, filled with a strange indifference as they grazed over the buildings in the distance that seemed to rise above the clouds. He watched as smoke billowed from factories and buildings that lined the busy streets and could already hear the loud noises and bustle that bellowed from the city that he was told "never slept".

" _So this is New York City..._ " He thought as the ship drifted closer to the cityline, the immense architecture looming overhead and growing in stature as he approached.

He was irritated. He was never fond of muggle transportation, especially after his introduction to the wizarding world and the magic that had shaped his life afterward. As a child he had always known he was different, special. He had had abilities that no other person he knew possessed and when Albus Dumbledore had come to visit him, his suspicions were confirmed. He was indeed extraordinary and he finally had the chance to show the world how truly great he would be. In Hogwarts he had excelled, where others had not, they were too lazy and content to take advantage of the endless sources of knowledge they were encompassed in. He was different, he had learned to push the boundaries of magic and had gone farther than any he knew to ensure he would become legend. To him, travelling in such conditions, like a common muggle was repulsive.

His journey had taken days, most of it had been spent below deck, locked away in a dark private room of his choosing, far from prying eyes. He had only stepped above deck at night, when all the other passengers had taken to bed, to take in fresh air and enjoy the silence and solitude of the night. He took his meals in his room and spoke to no one, a walking ghost on a ship he was eager to leave behind.

Despite his dissatisfaction with his method of travel, it was the only option he had even dared to entertain. It had been years since he had been forced to interact with members of muggle society and the idea of flying in a muggle made cage of steel thousands of feet in the air with little to no control was unacceptable.

" _Airplanes….what boorish pieces of scrap metal._ " He mused as he regaled his nightmarish childhood,

when he had spent his summers at the orphanage in London, summers full of ruin, of rubble and dust, of death and decay.

While the wizarding world was immersed in its own war, preoccupied with Grindelwald and his radical following, the muggles themselves had entered into their own world war and had produced weapons of mass destruction on their own, advancing their deadly arsonal more in the past few years than anyone had anticipated. Now, not only could they cause devastation on land, they now rained fire and hell from the sky as well as under the sea.

He remembered the pit of despair and fear in his stomach as a young teen during the first air raids..He remembered Mrs. Cole urging all of them to crawl under their desks in their shabby rooms when they would hear the air sirens scream and echo throughout the city, the explosions that would fill their young ears, too near for comfort. He himself often would wonder if the orphanage would be next, a giant pit of debri and wood and stone where he had just been laying. The thought unnerved him; He was unable to use proper magic while away from school to protect himself, he was not afforded the luxuries his classmates had, a well protected home in which to hide, a family to care for him. If he died, no one would even blink.

He remembered sitting on his bed and hearing all the noises and terrors the night had to offer him, the gut wrenching sounds from outside the orphanage... and how he had waited anxiously everyday for the bombs to drop.

Waiting to die.

Waiting to become another faceless body in the piles that began to line the streets of that stupid muggle war and how powerless he was to stop it. He remembered how he had pleaded with his headmaster and Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts during the summers, none of them had cared, no exceptions were to be made. In retrospect he felt ashamed he had even asked.

" _So weak…_ "

It was during those years of his life he decided he would find a way to defeat death. He would never cower at its feet again, helpless and defeated. He would not die, not there in that miserable muggle orphanage, not anywhere. He would become the most powerful wizard in the world and death would not take him like it had so many before him. He would bow to no one.

He smiled as he felt the handle of the wand hiding up the sleeve of his long dark coat, rubbing the yew wood softly and absent-mindedly with his thumb, reminiscing back to when it had first chosen him back in the tiny, dusty wand shop in Diagon Alley. He remembered how it had felt when he first grasped the handle of the small piece of wood and the shock of electricity that sparked through his entire body. It swept in through his fingertips, up his arm and had spread like wildfire all over his body, golden fireworks sprouting from the tip. He felt the power that awaited him and found himself consumed ever since.

" _We're sure to see nothing but great things from you…_ " The old wandmaker had said and He had felt obliged to agree.

Greatness had chosen him.

He ignored the old man as he babbled on about his wands capabilities and the rare pairing between wood and core he had yet to see before, none of it had mattered. He remembered focusing on what he had felt in the moment and how addictive it had been. What he could achieve. Gone was the poor lowly orphan with no family and no resources to his name. He had everything he needed now.

His name would be remembered.

All would bow at his feet.

The ship's foghorn blew loudly as it entered port, interrupting his thoughts as he quickly turned his attention to the docks below, watching as the smaller boats pulled them along, easing the massive ship into its slip. As the ship neared the larger paved landing he watched as muggle men quickly scurried around the deck and on land like rats to tether the boat to its final resting place.

The sun poked through the clouds, shining brilliantly as he ran his hands impatiently through his tousled dark black hair. He anxiously awaited for when the boarding plank would be lowered and he could finally escape his watery prison. He sniffed indignantly, to apparate off the ship would obviously be the more desirable way for him to take his leave, but he had been forewarned of this foreign country's policy regarding magic and how the wizarding community within operated.

He wished to remain a ghost, keeping his footsteps a secret, while learning whatever dark secrets this country had to offer. Once he had learned what he needed he would disappear once more, like smoke on the wind. He would make his presence known only when it served him to, and he had no intention of letting their nosy wizarding government poke their noses into his affairs.

As the sun took its permanent place in the morning sky, he heard the clanging of the steel plank being lowered decks below him and tighted his grip on the suitcase.

" _It's time_ " he thought quietly to himself.

North America had everything to offer him and he intended to crack open the delicate shell it was encased in, the old magic and the dark and everything that had been impossible to learn from across the sea at home. His heart started to beat heavily at the thought of the different magic he had yet to experience.

The wooden tip of his wand lazily poked out from the cuff of his jacket, pointed towards the suitcase by his feet. In a flash, the suitcase propelled up from the deck floor, its handle landing perfectly into his outstretched hand, the sunlight quickly glinted off the burnished golden nameplate on the top of the suitcase as he started to make his way below deck to unboard and start his journey.

It read: T .M. RIDDLE .

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 **First chapter finished! I know it was a little short, but I really didn't want to cram too much into the first chapter, hopefully it was a decent read and you'll stay tuned for the rest! Once again this story will follow Tom Riddle while he disappeared for a decade. JK Rowling has never really disclosed to us what he accomplished, where he went, what he studied etc, so this is my way of filling the gap! Hope you all enjoy it!**

 **Don't forget to review, follow or favorite! It's a huge motivator for me, also feel free to review with some feed back! It's all super appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

 *****this chapter has some excerpts included from the HBP. I don't own them, they belong to JK Rowling. :)**

 **Chapter 2 revised as of 4/6/2020, I had started to write this awhile ago, my writing style has since imporved so I wanted that to reflect a bit more in my work, hope you enjoy!**

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"Travel papers please, and open your luggage for inspection." Said a short stout man dressed in uniform at the bottom of the boarding plank.

Tom stepped off the steel plank and came to a stop at the base of the platform, forcing himself to smile at the muggle in front of him. He of course did not have travel papers, nor did he have any intention of letting the filthy muggle rummage through his belongings. However, he did find that false pleasantries worked wonders on those who were either not extremely intelligent or astute. To him all muggles fell into this category.

"Of course sir." Tom said in a calm voice as he laid the small weathered suitcase out on the small table before him for the man to inspect. "Wonderful morning isn't it?

The man grumbled a few rude words under his breath and grabbed the suitcase impatiently as he tried to pry open the strange looking lock on the front. Tom smiled as he watched the muggle fumble with the lock, cursing and swearing under his breath. The man started to lose his patience as he roughly brought the suitcase down loudly onto the table, his fingers trying to pry the gold fastenings around the intricate lock apart. Unbeknownst to him, his efforts were in vain as it was protected by a series of magic and enchantments . No ordinary person would have been able to open the case left to their own crude devices, no matter how hard they tried or what they tried to use to open it.

Tom grinned to himself as he watched the man turn many different shades of red, as his fat little fingers clawed at the case. " _Even a wizard with great skill would have a hard time opening that suitcase. But keep trying you filthy muggle, I only need you to be distracted for a little while longer._ "

"How do you open this case here boy?" said the man, his anger escalating as his last effort to open the lock had failed. He reached into his pocket and grabbed out a small handkerchief, dabbing at his red and flushed face while Tom bent over towards the case.

"I'm so sorry sir, that suitcase has always given me a bit of trouble," Tom said as he quickly glanced around his surroundings, pleased with his luck at the lack of crew members or customs agents in sight. He assumed it was due to the early hour and tasks they were still finishing up from making port.

"If you give the clasps a little wiggle there, it should pop right open…"

With the man effectively distracted, he slowly drew his wand from his coat jacket and muttered a spell so softly at the distracted muggle that no one would be able to hear. A cloud of green smoke poured from the tip of the wand and swirled towards the man's head.

"Confundo. "

His eyes slowly started to glaze over, unfocused and strange, as a dazed look came over his face.

Tom smiled and softly said "Sir, is there anything else you need? You've already checked my papers and my luggage and I'm in quite a hurry."

The customs agent, now under confundus curse, smiled at him with a peculiar and disoriented expression, his eyes looking faraway off into the distance and shook his head, pushing Tom's suitcase back towards him. "No no dear boy. Safe Travels."

Tom nodded, grabbing his suitcase quickly off the small table and started to walk away, a large grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was so deliciously easy to fool and confuse muggles to get what he wanted without them even knowing. He walked slowly down the large dock, the mist and fog slowly starting to disappear as the sun had started to permanently settle in the sky. As he approached the wide concrete steps that led up and into the city he started to hear the repetitive sound of horns, the clammer of people yelling and talking, as they all huddled and raced against each other to get to their destinations on time.

" _This city is certainly loud enough…_ " He thought as he started to climb the thick cemented steps.

As he made his way farther up the steps, the noise and acrid smells hit him like a ton of bricks. Repulsed, he buried his nose under his coat jacket, he had grown unaccustomed to the smell of a city after a week of being out on the ocean, with nothing but salt and wind lapping at his face. It was overwhelming and offensive and he was sure that London did not smell nearly as bad as New York did.

" _So this is the famed New York City...how..charming."_ He sneered to himself as he stepped onto a curb and stared upwards at the towering buildings muddled together in a giant mass before him. To him, it resembled a large forest, only instead of trees, fauna and leaves, it was made up of steel, concrete and glass.

New York was very different from what he had been accustomed to, London was large and loud, but the city was old, made up of buildings that held a long history, hundreds of years of life, with the occasional cluster of newer buildings popping up here and there, looking out of place amongst their older counterparts. New York City was still a child in its infancy, compared with the likes of London and it certainly behaved like one, its noise and caterwauling offensive to his ears. He had known that it would be different than what he was used to, but he had not prepared for this. He had never seen something as large and as immense as the city that lay before him, a true testament to the quick advancements of muggle architecture and greed.

Tom pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket as he started walking down the street, carefully unfolding it to reveal what had been written on the small scrap of paper. In a perfect and tidy handwriting was scribbled an address:

The Blind Pig  
124 Macdougall St, New York City, New York

He folded the parchment neatly and placed it back into his pocket, as he quickly searched around his feet for something ordinary and unremarkable, something that he could charm to direct him to his destination, without attracting any unwanted attention, although judging by his surroundings he suspected no one would care or notice anyway.

It didn't take long, the city was extremely polluted, the streets lined and filled with garbage and rubbish, blowing frequently through the wind and landing wherever it fell. A rogue sheet of newspaper flew through the wind past Tom and he caught it with one hand.

" _This will do._ " He thought as he once again let the tip of his wand peek through his jacket and muttered a locating spell under his breath. Tucking the wand back up his sleeve, he felt the paper start to tug and pull itself out of his hands to begin leading him towards his destination.

Tom finally released the newspaper and it jolted into the wind, flipping and turning about, constantly moving forward leading him further and further into the city. As he followed the scrap of paper, he recalled how he had come to know the name of the bar.

* * *

 _It had been a late night at Hogwarts, long after the welcoming feast following the summer of his seventh and final year. He had opened up a new book he had been studying, relaxed and contemplative as he sat on a thick and lush looking leather chair in the Slytherin common room. His studies were interrupted as he heard Lestrange, Malfoy and a few others loudy brag endlessly about their summer holidays. He grasped his book tightly as he felt his stomach burn with envy. Lestrange continued to brag about his travels abroad with his family to New York and folded his book into his lap, alert and listening eagerly, when Lestrange had finally mentioned something of interest._

" _As you all know my father has powerful connections in New York and he finally took me along with him to conduct one of his business meetings. I think he finally realized how important it was for me to learn the family business, after all after once I'm done wasting my time here in this ridiculous place.."_

 _He gestured to his surroundings in the Slytherin common room, "It'll be my responsibility to keep the family business going."_

" _So where did he take you?" He heard Malfoy asking eagerly._

" _This notorious bar in New York City called The Blind Pig. Father had a whole bunch of illegal dark artifacts to sell and after his promotion at this ministry, he thought it would be best if he got rid a few things...wouldn't look good if he kept them around the house you know? People are always nosing about everyone's business at work…"_

 _Tom listened intently as Lestrange continued. "The deal took a lot to work out, the owners a dirty little goblin and kept offering father way too little, but we got him to agree eventually, you know how goblins are, they can't stand to let something worth money out of their sight."_

 _As Lestrange continued, Tom quickly scribbled the name of the bar on a small page of the book and ripped it out, folding it neatly and placing it into his pocket._

* * *

After being denied the Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts for his inexperience, it was this exact conversation that inspired him to apply to Borgin & Burkes, for if he wanted to further explore his possibilities and experimentation with the dark arts, how better to get acquainted with witches and wizards that held the same penchant and ideas as he?

He would travel for the small shop in Knockturn Alley, using his skills to charm and beguile others out of their possessions, while masquerading as a poor and humble boy with ambition, working to make ends meet. He would acquire as much knowledge as he could, making many acquaintances with those who held power and resources to further his agenda.

And it had worked.

It had taken no time whatsoever to convince Mr. Burke that he would make a valuable asset to the shop, he excelled at persuading various clients into parting with not only their precious heirlooms, but also coerced them to hand over powerful and cursed items to him without any hesitation at all.

The work itself Tom knew was below him, but in time it had introduced him to many dominant and influential witches and wizards who shared in his pure-blood beliefs, allowing him to forge powerful alliances to further his ideals should he need them. He also knew that one day he would stumble across something marvelous, something of extraordinary value and his life would change.

Ten years later his work finally paid off. He remembered that fateful day, when that grotesque whale of a woman Hepzibah Smith, revealed to him she had two artifacts claiming to have belonged to two of the four Hogwarts founders, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin.

At first Tom had been skeptical. Many people claimed to have owned items belonging to the founders of Hogwarts, none of them were genuine, all fakes, all made up stories in order to try to bamboozle money out of others less intelligent.

But these were as real as the diadem he had found in the forests of Albania and he would not stop until he possessed them.

Tom smirked as he recalled the events that transpired that day, a day that had helped place him closer to his goal of immortality.

* * *

 _Tom straightened his suit jacket and pushed the stray lock of jet black hair that was always falling into his eyes as he knocked on the door of Hepzibah Smith's palatial estate. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers, a gift for the toad of the woman Caractacus Burke insisted he continue to visit, one of their most loyal clients. Unfortunately for him, the insufferable woman now refused to meet with either Mr. Borgin or Mr. Burke and instead insisted on doing all her business dealings with Tom, who she had grown fond of._

 _He despised every visit, but put on a smile and a grin every time he was forced there by his employers. None of the woman's items were particularly interesting, none steeped in the magical history he so craved to collect, so many trips were spent stuck in her drawing room, pretending to care about what useless piece of ancient jewelry or goblin armour she was trying to sell, while drinking tea and forcing himself to eat stale chocolates she pushed upon him. In addition, to make matters worse, Tom knew she fancied him more than a woman of her age should and he found it absolutely repulsive. He had never found neither a man nor woman to peak his romantic interest, let alone a woman as old and as repugnant as she, but he continued to grin and bear it and flatter her in hopes one day she would either cease to exist or actually have something useful to sell him._

 _The door opened and her small house elf answered the door._

" _Good Morning Mr. Riddle!" squeaked the small elderly house elf as she continued "Mrs. Hepzibah has been awaiting your arrival quite anxiously! Follow me!"_

 _As the elf turned to shut the door behind him, Tom's smile faltered slightly, not looking forward to spending any time with the lady of the house at all._

 _Hokey led him straight to the drawing room he was already so familiar with and he entered to find Hepzibah sitting exactly where she always did. On a large overstuffed floral chaise lounge, loudly slurping her tea, like a hippo in the serengeti. He forced himself to go over and kiss her fat little hand, trying to keep the bile down as it started to rise in his throat._

" _I brought you flowers," he said quietly, as he gave her the bouquet he had brought._

" _You naughty little boy, you shouldn't have!" squealed old Hepzibah. "You do spoil this old lady, Tom….Sit down, sit down…"_

 _He remembered the small elf bringing in trays of cakes, while Hepzibah tried to force them down his throat, remarking on how thin and pale he appeared. He took a bite of a cake to be polite and set it down on the table carefully, trying to swallow what tasted like sawdust, feeling it scratch his throat on the way down. Tom listened to her remark once more on his looks and how tired he seemed as he tried to dismiss her. He was here to make another offer on the goblin armor and had tried to start business as soon as possible so he could leave quickly._

" _Mr. Burke would like to make an improved offer for the goblin-made armour, five hundred galleons he feels is more than a fair-"_

" _Now, now, not so fast, or I'll think you're here only for my trinkets!" pouted Hepzibah_

 _Tom was starting to lose his patience._

" _I am ordered here because of them." He said quietly "I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told. Mr. Burke wishes me to inquire-"_

" _Oh Mr. Burke, phooey!" said Hepzibah waving a little hand. "I've got something to show you that I've never shown Mr. Burke. Can you keep a secret Tom? Will you promise you won't tell Mr. Burke I've got it? He'd never let me rest if he knew I'd shown it to you, and I'm not selling, not to Burke, not to anyone! But you Tom, you'll appreciate it for it's history, not how many galleons you can get for it."_

 _Toms head perked up and he straightened his back. His curiosity was slightly peaked. The woman in front of him had never once, as long as he had known her, wasted an opportunity to brag and boast about the possessions she owned. She always sat in front of him, wearing her sickeningly large pink colored robes, with skin that hung off her frame like wrinkled parchment, her red wig consistently teetering off her head as she laughed and bellowed, her multiple chins dangling and jiggling about, as she paraded her belongings in front of him, ranting and raving about the cost and price of everything. If she had never shown anyone what she was about to show him, then it must be valuable. But he also musn't get his hopes up._

" _I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me," said Tom quietly_

 _She let out a girlish giggle and bade her house elf to go and fetch not only the treasure she boasted about, but another as well. Tom watched as the elf carried two leather boxes into the room and brought them over to her._

" _Now," said Hepzibah happily, taking the boxes from the elf and laying them in her lap, and was preparing to open the topmost one. "I'll think you'll like this Tom...Oh if my family knew I was showing you...They can't wait to get their hands on this!"_

 _As she opened the box, Tom saw the handles of the small gleaming golden cup and he stretched out his hand to lift it out of its soft wrappings. His greedy eyes looked over the chalice as he traced the outline of a badger on the front with his finger._

" _A badger…" he murmured "Then this was…."_

" _Helga Hufflepuff's, as you well know, you clever boy!" said Hepzibah, leaning forward and pinching his cheeks. "Didn't I tell you I was distantly descended? This has been handed down in the family for years and years. Lovely, isn't it? And all sorts of powers it's supposed to possess too, but I haven't tested them thoroughly, I just keep it nice and safe in here…"_

 _She grabbed the cup out of his hand and placed it gently back into the box, missing the dark look on Tom's face._

 _She turned around as she handed the box back to her elf and spoke again. "I think you'll like this one more Tom, lean in a little dear by so you can see….Of course Burke knows I've got this one, I bought it from him, and I daresay he'd love to get it back when I'm gone…"_

 _She opened the latch in front of the box and lifted the lid to reveal a heavy golden locket._

 _Tom reached out, drawn to the locket, and held it up in his hands._

" _Slytherins mark." he said quietly._

" _That's right!" said Hepzibah delighted, apparently, at the sight of Tom gazing at her locket, transfixed. " I had to pay an arm and a leg for it, but I couldn't let it pass, not a real treasure like that, had to have it for my collection. Burke bought it, apparently form a ragged- looking woman who seemed to have stolen it, but had no idea of it's true value , I daresay Burke paid her a pittance but there you are….Pretty isn't it? And again, all kinds of powers attributed to it, though I just keep it nice and safe…"_

 _At the mere mention of his mother and the realization that he had been robbed of his only family heirloom, Toms insides started to roil and fester with anger._

 _She reached out and grabbed the locket from Tom, putting it safely back in the velvet cushioned box it came from._

 _Tom stared at the box intently as she closed the lid and looked over at him curiously, narrowing her eyes as if she had seen something strange._

" _Are you alright dear?"_

 _Tom broke his gaze on the box quickly and tried to recollect himself, having been lost in his thoughts. What luck he had come today! He had already found Ravenclaw's lost diadem and here before him were two more artifacts that had belonged to Hogwarts founding owners, what better vessels to preserve his soul in but these? One of them was his birthright, it had been robbed from him and he would find a way to retrieve it, the cup he cared less about but he would take it anyway as it would fit quite nicely into his collection._

" _Oh yes," said Tom quietly, "Yes, I'm very well…"_

Tom remembered how he had paced back and forth many times that night long ago, trying to conceive the perfect plan in order for him to obtain what should have rightfully been his. He would take everything and no one would ever suspect or think to blame the lowly and humble assistant from Borgin and Burkes. He raked his brain trying to think of a way into the house without being noticed or seen by either Hepzibah or her squeaky waif of an elf, when a clever idea finally sprang to mind.

" _The imperious curse…"_

He would perform the curse on the elf and force her to poison Hepzibah, mixing it in with nighttime tea and after she had retrieved the items for him, he would wipe her memory clean, inserting false ones into place. It was perfect. All the cards would fall right into place.

Two days later, Hepzibah Smith was found dead in her home, the result of being poisoned by her house elf who had confessed,and before he had stolen away in the middle of the night, Tom had created a new horcrux for himself using her murder.

He was one step closer to attaining his goal of immortality.

* * *

Tom was quickly ripped from his thoughts as a taxi honked loudly at him, he had been so immersed in his memories that he had completely ignored the walk signal. As the driver slammed on his brakes, he opened his window, screaming profanities in his direction.

" _Filthy muggle…_ " Tom thought and continued to walk across the street, refusing to engage the angry muggle. He once again flicked his wand quickly behind his back towards the taxi and muttered a spell under his breath.

A loud popping sound erupted from behind him, as the taxi wheels started to blow out from under the car. The driver ran out from inside his taxi as he surveyed the damage, confused and angry, cursing at the curb, which he blamed for the blow out.

Tom smiled as he reached the other side of the street. " _Not exactly what I wanted to do, but that will suffice for the time being._ " He smiled knowing that he had at least ruined the rest of the man's day.

The walk was proving to be longer than he anticipated, it seemed although New York was built on a simple grid system, the crowds of people rushing and crowding through intersections on the street and on the sidewalk made it near impossible to stick to a fast steady pace. He wished he could apparate, but knew that was impossible as he had never been to the bar before.

As Tom tried to hasten his pace, amid the pushing and shoving hoards of people, he started to take in more of his surroundings. Buildings were covered in majestic lights, men were stopped at every corner, smoking cigars and waiting in line to get their shoes shined for the upcoming work day. Theaters had begun to open, setting up their box offices to sell tickets for the upcoming performances later that day, in hopes every seat would be filled. There were newsboys on every corner, yelling out headlines and news, selling papers to those who passed by them. Many people appeared and disappeared underground, running to and fro to catch their trains. Tom felt a rumble beneath his feet as he watched hot steam rise from the sewer grates, signaling the passing of an underground train. New York City was alive, the people, the noise and the sounds acting in unison, like a steady heartbeat in its chest.

He followed the billowing newspaper a few more blocks and started to notice as the crowds of people started to dwindle, the bustle of commuters and businessmen disappearing as the buildings started to grow smaller and less industrial. Cracked sidewalks and the smell of the garbage became more prevalent as he continued his journey, the neighborhoods getting less and less appealing as he made his way further into the belly of the city.

Tom quickly noticed the newspaper abruptly turn right down an old alleyway and hastened his steps so as not to lose sight of it. A familiar feeling crept up his spine, he could feel there was magic hiding somewhere in the area.

" _I must be getting closer…It's around here somewhere._ " He thought to himself

He passed a few homeless muggles conversing amongst themselves by the opening of the alleyway, warming their hands over what resembled a steel trash bin that held a small flickering flame, he watched as they threw old paper and debri into its mouth, keeping their only source of heat coming. They seemed to ignore the alleyway and focus their attention on the rubbish heap, Tom wondered if this meant the alleyway was enchanted and only those with magical abilities could spot it or enter.

As he passed them and entered the alleyway, he looked behind him to make sure no one noticed he had disappeared out of thin air and was relieved to see that the men were still preoccupied with their fire. He stopped as he watched the newspaper float slowly down a brick and concrete staircase towards the side of the alley that led downwards. Standing at the top and staring down to the bottom, he saw a faded painting of what seemed to be a young red headed girl staring at herself in a mirror, the words above the artwork read. "Lips That Charm."

" _Curious..._." he muttered to himself as he started to softly make his way down the stairs towards the painting which didn't appear to move at all. Placing his foot on the bottom landing, he pulled out the piece of parchment he had kept in his pocket and unfolded it once more.

Tapping on the paper with his wand, he slowly saw the ink start to disappear and reappear with a different message:

 _Revelio_

Tom stuffed the paper back into his pocket and cast the charm, lowering his wand as he noticed the lady start to blink and smile at him, preening and combing her long red hair. She slowly reached with her free hand to pull back part of her illustration on the brick wall to reveal a doorknob. She smiled once more at him as went back to combing her hair and applying her lipstick.

He reached for the handle, eager to rest his feet and begin his journey.

* * *

 **Chapter 2 is finished! Phew.  
It took me a bit to finalize where I wanted this chapter to go, this story has taken me a long time to work out the kinks and I'm trying to make things flow together where they would make sense, ALSO with that being said, I'm trying super hard to not make Tom Riddle seem ooc, because that is one thing I DIDN'T want to do. **

**Once again I quoted some text from the book, I DID NOT write that, that belongs to JK Rowling and her fabulous writing, she gets the credit, I did however tweak some things, because I wanted to represent it from Toms POV.**

 **Review if you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

 **Chapter revised 4/7/2020**

* * *

The inside of the speakeasy was dark, Tom wrinkled his nose as swirls of smoke billowed and floated through the air, making his eyes water as he made his way from the doorway towards a ramshackle table in a dark corner. Small dim lights hung crookedly on iron rods attached to the ceiling, barely illuminating the dark and dusty room. The air was painfully stale, he couldn't tell whether it was from the smoke, or the fact that the bar probably hadn't seen any sunlight for as long as it had existed. Towards the back of the bar was a small stage upon which a band was playing, their lead singer crooning and singing to the gloomy melodies they made. Tom had never been fond of bars and had only frequented a handful of them in his life out of necessity, but the atmospheres from which he was accustomed were very different from that of the bar he had just walked into.

As he approached the vacant secluded table, he kept a firm grip on his suitcase and the other hand tightly wrapped around his wand as he felt the eyes of strangers on his back. A few men seated at the bar slowly puffed on cigars as their eyes continued to follow him, watching him carefully as he sat down. He heard them mutter among themselves and laugh in his direction as he raised his wand carefully below the table, prepared in the case of an altercation. They turned back around slowly, losing interest in him as a fresh round of drinks arrived before them.

Tom relaxed his grip on his wand slowly as he placed his suitcase on the worn, wooden table before him, tapping his finger in anticipation. As soon as he was sure all the attention on him had ceased, he raised his wand to the strange, intricate golden lock shaped like a set of two intertwined snakes and whispered something in parseltongue. The two snakes slowly uncoiled and a small burnished clasp revealed itself from behind them. He pressed down gently on the fastening and raised the top of the suitcase, searching through his few belongings.

He pulled a map and two books from the belly of the case and placed them neatly beside him on the old worn surface of the table. As he went to close the suitcase, a gleam of gold caught his eye, peering through an old woolen sack resting from inside the luggage. He rubbed his fingers gently against the rough fabric and felt the bulkiness of the cup that lay within. He closed his eyes as he heard screams and the whispers coming from inside the bag, his horcruxes speaking and calling out to him in a way only he could feel or understand. The sensation he got from the made him warm, sending electric sparks up his arm.

" _Extraordinary..."_

He smirked as he removed his hand, shutting the suitcase gently so as not to attract anymore attention to himself. Tom ran his fingers through his dark hair, pushing the stray strands back that were always falling into his eyes and face. He picked a small folded piece of parchment which contained a map of the United States, he cocked his head in concentration as he started to read all the notes he had scribbled upon it, days and weeks before he had actually landed in the country. As it lay before him, he tapped his finger on one of the small notes he had made, and quickly picked up one of the books he had placed onto the table entitled "A Magical History of North America", opening it calmly to a bookmarked page. He continued to read quietly, alone in his dark corner for a few minutes until a voice, both small and deep, broke his concentration.

"What'll ya be havin'"

Tom lowered his book and looked down towards the dingy floor, where a grumpy looking house elf stood, glowering at him while wiping a cup clean.

"We ain't running a charity here, either order a drink or get movin!" the elf said again, less friendly than before, his eyes narrowed.

Tom, irritated with the interruption, tried to remain as collected and polite as he possibly could and spoke softly "Wine please, red if you have it."

The house elf nodded gruffly and clicked his fingers, a glass quickly floated over to the table, followed by a dusty old bottle of red wine that uncorked and poured itself right in front of him, after it had finished the elf clicked his old gnarled fingers again and the bottle returned from where it came.

The house elf, hearing Toms foreign accent cocked his head slightly "English eh? We don't get too many of you people round' here, when we do, you folks is always up to nothin' good." Giving Tom a suspicious look he turned around and shook his head, slowly returning to his spot behind the bar, swiping the same cup clean as he grumbled to himself.

Tom continued to read for another hour or so, jotting down notes on the wrinkled scrap of a map, completely immersed in the book he was reading. If he was to be honest, he wasn't quite sure where he should begin to look for the magic he so desperately desired, he was unfamiliar with the country and everything was spaced out much further than he anticipated. He had narrowed down his long list of destinations to only a few select territories, in a neat and distinct order of importance to what he thought he would find.

As people came and left the bar, he casually would glance above his book to see who walked in. He had never much been a person who longed for social interaction, he had rarely feigned any interest in starting conversations with most people, but he did like to be aware of his surroundings at all times.

He put down his glass, which seemed to always refill when it was close to empty, much to his chagrin. He had decided to slow his sips, lest it refill again, he had never enjoyed the feeling that followed after prolonged alcohol consumption, he preferred to be alert at all times. His pale slender fingers rested on the wooden table top, as he continued to flip through the pages of the book, tapping his fingers impatiently, as if waiting for something, anything to pop out on a page and strike him. As he reached for the glass beyond the book another voice, this time heavy with a New York accent and raspy, as if the owner had smoked its entire life, spoke to him. Tom lowered the book as a plum of cigar smoke wafted over and into his face.

"Let's see what your readin' here? A History of North America and...what else? Hm, Dark and Ancient Magic of America. That book might make people think ya ain't up to nood good."

Tom closed the book as his eyes met anothers from across the table, small, black and beady, belonging to an old goblin dressed neatly in a suit. He hadn't heard the seat scrape across the floor, or footsteps to alert him to another presence watching him, the goblin appeared to have formed out of thin air. He had been prepared for this, in fact this is what he had been so anxiously awaiting from the moment of his arrival. He knew at some point a foreigner or stranger in his bar would peak the goblins interest, he remembered Lestrange complaining about how his father had to wait around for hours before the famed owner of the bar decided to show himself. Criminal underlords didn't make appointments and showed up when they pleased.

"Just some research I'm doing for-" Tom said in a quiet voice as he was interrupted by the Goblin who sat across from him.

"And British too! I shoulda known, I can usually spot you people a mile away with your fancy robes and noses up in the air, I got nothin' but trouble last time one of you walked in unexpectedly around here..."

The goblin eyed him suspiciously as he puffed on his cigar, holding it in his sharp pointy teeth and rubbing his chin.

"Names Gnarlak." the goblin said as he flicked the ashes his cigar on the floor of the speakeasy. "I run this bar and I make it my business to know everyone's business in here. Whether they like it or not."

Gnarlak motioned behind him to the grumpy house elf, who was still cleaning glasses behind the bar. "Frank doesn't trust ya. He's been watchin' ya since ya' got here, told me we might have some trouble with the young Brit in the corner."

His black beady eyes followed Tom as he continued to take a sip of his wine. As he placed the glass back down on the table he replied softly "I'm not here for trouble. My name is Riddle sir...Tom Riddle. You see I just decided to stop off here quickly to rest my feet from traveling and those books are just a bit of light reading for me." He smiled at the goblin politely, hoping to charm the creature as he had so many others, a fail safe he had learned to use in difficult situations when magic wasn't an option. But the goblin didn't seem to be phased by any act of politeness, nor did he seem interested in pleasantries. Instead he sat in front of Tom, eyeing him carefully for a few moments as he puffed on his cigar.

Gnarlak snorted as his response. " _Light_ reading..Yeah, right. Nice try kid." The goblin clicked his fingers and before Tom could grab the map, it appeared instantly in the goblins hands.

Tom pushed his chair back angrily, his wand clutched firmly in his hand, aimed towards the Goblin who had stolen the map from him, reading it intently.

"Relax kid. I ain't gonna hurt ya." Gnarlak smirked as he looked over the map in his hands, glancing at what Tom had written, his eyes rising towards Toms as he slowly laid the map down in front of him. He snorted and shook his head, clicking his fingers as a drink of firewhisky on ice appeared in front of him.

"Good luck with that kind of trip, Riddle...was it?" He raised the glass up to his brown leathery lips as he took a giant sip and puffed once again from the cigar.

Tom gathered his things into his suitcase, getting angrier as the goblin continued to speak said in an icily cold voice "I'm perfectly capable-"

He got up from the table, reaching towards his suitcase and stopped as the goblin started to cackle.

"Calm down kid, I ain't finished talkin' yet. What I was sayin' is _good luck_ with that kinda trek without some kind of guide." He finally took the cigar out of his mouth and put it out in Toms wine glass.

Tom cautiously looked at the goblin and snorted, the arrogance displayed clearly across his face. "A guide? I of all people have no need of that."

"Look. You ain't never been here before Riddle and I looked at what you got goin' on there. I ain't saying you can't go to those places. You can, but it's gonna be one big waste. Let me learn you a little somethin' on the good old USA."

Gnarlak motioned for him to sit down once more, Tom sat down slowly, trying not to seem eager, he knew the goblin in front of him was about to tell him the exact information that he had come for. He had not originally intended to travel or seek guidance from anyone in this country, but after countless nights of studying and reading books on the North American wizarding world, he realized he could not access the information he so desired on his own. His dark eyes focused coldly at the creature in front of him.

"Now, I ain't used to your country Riddle and I don't know how things are over there across the big blue pond, but here in America, we don't like strangers." He took a sip again of the firewhisky. "And we certainly don't like people nosing around in our business that ain't got no need to be. You ain't gonna learn nothing on your own and you're gonna get yourself killed that way, or even worse, caught by MACUSA. Then you'll wish you had been killed."

Tom snorted again, knowing what he had in his suitcase fully protected him from death. He had several items in place to secure his immortality.

"So how am I to find a _guide_ if everyone keeps to themselves?" Tom said calmly. "I'm not familiar with anyone in this country who-"

"A normal witch or wizard would be useless," Gnarlak said "Not any joe off the streets is going to be able to take you where you wanna be. You need someone special, someone who they trust and who is experienced in these kinds of affairs."

"And where exactly would I find this person?" he said softly. He traced his finger along a large crack in the table as he looked up curiously at Gnarlack, cocking his head. "From what you've just said, I would have to find such a person, given my lack of resources that seems impossible..."

Gnarlak clicked his fingers and another cigar appeared in his hand. He lit it and smirked letting off clouds of smoke from between his lips. "It just so happens, I know such a person Mr. Riddle."

Tom raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth slightly to speak. "Well then-"

Gnarlak smiled and interrupted him once more. "It's going to cost you. I don't give out any of my contacts for free. That's bad business."

"Name your price." Tom said quietly in a low voice as he stared stubbornly into Gnarlak's eyes. He had been prepared for this moment, after Lestrange's stories. This goblin did not seek money in exchange for his services, he was already independently wealthy, he instead valued rare and illegal magical items he could repurpose on the black market. And it just so happened Tom had something of extreme value.

"I can pay anything you want." Tom lied. He of course had brought a small amount of money, but it was no great fortune, just the remnants of his pitiful salary he had earned working for Borgin & Burkes.

The goblin laughed and said "Money is useless to me, I got more money than you'd ever dream of kid, I'm looking for something unique, something special, something hard to come by. I doubt you got anything that I want."

"Perhaps I may have something that might be of value to you." Tom said softly, unclasping his suitcase and reaching in, pulling out another woolen bag. He laid it on the table and pushed it towards Gnarlak. The goblin eyed the bag skeptically as he opened it and raised his eyebrows in surprise, his eyes dancing with greed. The goblin reached eagerly into the bag and pulled a long sharp tooth carefully from the bag.

"Basilisk fangs and more than one" Gnarlak said as he clapped his hands together in delight.

"So, do you accept?" Tom said sharply, growing weary of the goblins presence. He was starting to become impatient.

"You drive a hard bargain Mr. Riddle. Now I won't ask what a young guy with you is doing with a bag of these babies, but it's quite unusual."

Tom remained silent and continued to stare at the goblin.

Gnarlak smirked. "All right Mr. Riddle, you got yourself a deal." He waved his hand and a piece of parchment appeared in front of Tom, with just a lone address written on it.

"Just remember kid, this ain't gonna be cheap so be prepared. All good things come with a hefty price tag."

"I'll manage." he said slowly getting up from the table. "This visit has been...productive."

"Three taps to the brown brick." said the Goblin, as he took a sip of his drink, his hand resting on the bag containing the basilisk fangs. "That's how you get in."

Tom nodded as he grabbed his suitcase and made his way towards the door, the bar noticeably dark and empty, he suddenly realized that heand Gnarlak had been the only patrons left in the bar. As he reached for the handle the goblin spoke one last time in a loud and raspy voice.

"You're pretty young and you seem to be about the right age. You went to Hogwarts right?"

Tom nodded as he kept his eyes focused on the door before him.

"I remember years back reading about that girl who got killed in the school. Did they ever figure out what killed her? We don't get much international news on this side of the pond. From what I hear, it's like she saw somethin' that scared the life right outta her."

"It's been a long time." said Tom, a cold shiver radiated down his spine. "I believe they did."

"How bout' that?" the goblin chuckled as he stroked his hand along the outline of the woolen sack.

He paused and left the bar, slowly closing the door behind him. As he disregarded the old goblins last words, he looked down at the paper and smiled. So far everything was going according to plan.

* * *

 **I absolutely had a blast writing this chapter, and especially the ending where Gnarlak seemingly called Tom out for the basilisk fangs. (I'd like to think that someone involved in the wizarding black market would at least have an extensive knowledge of rare beasts and creatures.)**

 **Please review and tell me what you think so far, trying my hardest to write new chapters and content, this story is probably going to turn out way longer than i had anticipated. Thanks for reading this far, stay tuned for the next chapter! Please add it to your favorites, review & follow to stay tuned!**

 *****Because I feel my writing has evolved in the past year, I've been going through old chapters and re-writing them slowly to make the story flow a bit smoother.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

The sun was starting to set in the sky, marking the end of Tom's first day in New York. He was walking briskly down the sidewalk in another seedy neighborhood, this time without the aid of a locating spell. He had spent the rest of the day wandering the city after he had left The Blind Pig, the small sheet of parchment given to him by Gnarlak clasped tightly into his balled fist.

" _I knew that America was going to be harder to explore than England or Albania, especially as an outsider...I went to the Bling Pig specifically for this reason. I knew before I came here that this was going to be my only option..._ "

He forced himself to look at the piece of parchment in his hand which held the solution to his problems.

He had come to the conclusion a while ago that no matter how many books he devoured, how many countless pages he had memorized and studied, that it would not help him to infiltrate these smaller guarded wizarding communities. They did not welcome outsiders with open arms and preferred to keep their customs and magic hidden well underground. They had completely segregated themselves from the non-magical community and it was forbidden to share those secrets with those who did not perform magic.

He grimaced in frustration. " _This journey of mine will have been wasted if I don't take every opportunity I have to learn what I can here. I refuse to go home until I've learned every secret, every last dark and ancient spell that I can to ensure my success_."

As he knew, Europe had been easy, magic was abundant and the communities in which he had explored had not been reduced to cowering in the shadows, like so many of the ones that had settled here. He had uncovered many ancient secrets, forbidden spells and made acquaintances with many who shared his ideals, giving him access and leading him to the knowledge he wanted.

After leaving The Blind Pig, he recalled how he had sat for what seemed like hours in a park in Manhattan under the light of the moon, reading everything he could about magic in North America, there was plenty of information in the book, but nothing on where to find them or where to start.

The paper crumpled up between his fingers was his only option.

The books had proven insightful, but besides vague descriptions of the magic he sought there were no incantations or spells to go along with the information, only names and titles of a solid few. The knowledge of this magic wasn't forbidden, like it had been in Europe, but buried so far underground, only a select few had the knowledge on how to perform it. Magic that could raise the dead, that could turn ordinary objects into something more desirable, magic that could control dreams and force others to see what you wanted them to. It was all here, it was written down in text, but with no explanation on how to perform it.

This is why he knew he had needed a guide, someone with the necessary key to open all the locked doors ahead of him.

He stood up calmly, dusting the grass gently off his legs. It was time, it could no longer be delayed or thought upon, he would have to put his discomfort aside and seek guidance.

He grabbed his suitcase and furrowed his brows as he thought about the address on the paper. With a loud crack, he disapparated, leaving nothing behind him but crumpled grass to show where he had been.

* * *

He found himself on what seemed to be an abandoned street, most of the houses were in disarray, crumbled ruins and charred remains with boarded windows and doors. The buildings that weren't sealed up contained windows that had iron bars on their frames, looking more like prisons than homes. The air had a feeling of despair, gloomy and destitute from years of oppression and neglect. Car horns honked in the distance, followed by faint cracks and pops of what sounded like small fireworks, echoing off the silent walls of the neighborhood.

A single street lamp flickered on and off at the far end of the block, illuminating a cracked and decrepit brick wall, standing eerily alone in the darkness between the surrounding houses. Tom walked up to it slowly as he glanced at the address written on the paper. As he looked at the dilapidated stone wall, running his fingers carefully over its surface, a small address appeared directly in front of his face, scratching itself violently onto the wall, as if made by an invisible hand, the words glowing red as he slowly read it back to himself.

" _How peculiar…"_ He thought to himself as he quickly glanced behind him, making sure he was alone and turned his head once more towards the wall, searching for the brown brick Gnarlak had told him about. He quickly spotted it and pulled out his wand, tapping on it three times as instructed, taking a small step back.

The wall started to shake as bricks started to crack and split; resizing themselves and jutting outward slowly to form a hidden door. Tom reached forward eagerly as a small burnished door knob appeared, illuminated by the moonlight. He grasped it and turned it steadily, watching the door swing in slowly, creaking and rumbling as he pushed it. He peered in from the doorway, looking down a long dark hallway that led to another closed door further on, a warm glow resonating from under the cracks and spaces in its frame.

He entered the hallway slowly, trying to watch his footing in the dark as he made his way forward. He had not been inside for more than five seconds, when he heard the stone door close after him, sealing him away from the fresh air he had left behind.

"Lumos." he said softly as he raised his wand

As he raised his wand he noticed small candles on every other foot on either side of the walls, and flicked his wand to light them, each candle illuminating slowly one by one. The lighting was not strong, but he could start to make out some of his surroundings as the flames danced and cast shadows on the walls. He stepped forward once more as the floor creaked beneath him, the wood warped and groaning as he continued slowly, placing his feet carefully so as to not trip over some of the boards that rose up from the flooring. The ceiling was riddled with holes and cobwebs, exposed fiberglass and scraps of debri lay out in the open as the bits of plaster that had once covered them lay about the floor in broken heaps. As the candles danced across the hallway he noticed that the walls had once been covered in pink wallpaper, which over time had become shredded and torn, hanging limply from the sheetrock, making the corridor seem less appealing with each and every step.

" _What kind of place is this?_ " He thought to himself as he neared the door.

As he approached the small doorway, he could see the faint glow still flickering from under the door, followed by a shadow, signalling the presence of another. He came to a stop at the entryway, watching the shadow slowly disappear out of sight. He kept his wand firmly in his grasp and aimed it quickly at the door, eager to see what lay beyond. It swung open effortlessly and groaned slowly as it came to a stop before hitting the wall.

Tom took a step forward and calmly stepped into a large room shabbily decorated with no windows or doors, save for the one he had just entered through. A fireplace was lit and crackling at the back end of the room, giving off the warm ambient glow he had seen from the hallway, casting shadows that danced across the walls. As he continued through the room he noticed two lavish and plush chairs before the fire, empty and vacant. A medium sized wooden desk sat off to the right hand of the room, its surface littered with papers and quills and a small array of candles, casting additional light onto a large parchment spread across the desk.

" _Curious…_ " he thought as he continued to look around.

A large feathered quill floated on its own, scribbling away furiously on a scrap of paper, stopping only to take small dips in the elaborate bottle of ink placed to it's left. An assortment of letters ripped themselves up and floated neatly into the fire, feeding it, while a radio softly hummed in the background, filling the room with music. He looked once more around himself quickly, no one appeared to be there.

"Hello?" he said softly. Tom furrowed his eyebrows in frustration as he waited for a reply. He was certain he had seen someone behind the door earlier.

As he continued to observe the room, he noticed a large area of the wall opposite him, covered in maps that continuously changed, their routes covered in small red markings, appearing on certain spots while others vanished, with no rhyme or reason. Newspaper clippings also floated about the wall, various articles and pictures intermixed between the maps moving themselves as they saw fit.

He walked closer towards them, interested in what they said and read headlines entitled:

" **STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES IN MULTIPLE CITIES.** "

" **REOCCURING NO-MAJ DEATHS ARE A MYSTERY ... WENDIGO OR WIZARD?** "

As he leaned closer to read the articles, his interest aroused, when he suddenly heard the door shut softly behind him and a silky voice speak.

"Ah, I've been expecting you for quite some time now, I was wondering if you were going to come."

* * *

Tom turned around towards the voice, not surprised that his visit had been anticipated.

" _The goblin sent word ahead of my arrival…_ "

He ran his hands through his hair as his eyes fell upon who had spoken to him. A young woman stood at the side of the desk, wearing a traveling cloak that masked her perfect figure. Soft black waves of hair fell down her shoulders as she stared at him, a smile starting to form on her lips.

"I stepped out for a moment," she continued "I had matters I needed to attend to." She walked across the room, taking off the cloak and gently tossed it behind her, Tom watched as it floated towards a coat rack and hung itself up neatly.

"No matter." He said as his attention drifted once more towards the newspaper clippings.

She eyed him coldly, realizing what his attention had been focused on and waved her hand quickly, the maps and articles folding themselves neatly and filing themselves into the desk.

"Those don't concern you." she said softly, as she gestured towards a chair that sat opposite her desk. "Come and have a seat."

He slowly walked over towards it, placing his suitcase on the wooden desk before sitting down.

She was beautiful, with long black hair that was styled perfectly into soft waves, her skin was as white as porcelain, not a marr or mark in sight and her lips were painted a perfect red to offset it all. She reminded Tom of the girls in those muggle pin-up magazines he remembered seeing at the orphanage, tucked away under some of the other boys beds, hiding them from Mrs. Cole, lest she take them away for their lewd and inappropriate purpose. Tom had never been interested enough to steal one while he would sneak into their rooms, he only took belongings which he deemed valuable or significant, watching them with a gleeful smile in the morning when they realized their precious possessions had disappeared. She was a spitting image of those women, the only abnormality on her otherwise perfect appearance were her eyes, one a golden amber, the other a piercing blue.

Nodding in satisfaction she turned around and walked towards a small cabinet containing hundreds of vials of potion ingredients. She quickly removed two vials from the pockets of her dress and placed them amongst some of the others as she closed the cabinet doors behind her.

"Comfortable?" She asked as she approached the desk.

"Yes. Thank you, Ms..?" Tom replied curtly as he sat in the seat presented to him.

As she sat down on the other side of the desk, she crossed her legs neatly in front of her, looking at him once more, studying his face as she waved her hand towards the cabinet.

She continued on ". Ah right, introductions must be made. It's Leroux. Lyra Leroux...And you of course, are Mr…"

"Tom Riddle." he said, softly, a clear distaste in his eyes as he said his name.

"Mr. Tom Riddle..." she said softly, not breaking eye contact with him. "How may I be of service to you."

He broke her gaze as he looked down to unlatch his suitcase, quickly pulling out a small piece of parchment and closing it immediately. "I wish to travel extensively through this country for personal research and I was told if I wanted to acquire any knowledge at all I would need someone such as yourself to help me."

"Is that right...and why would you need me exactly?" Lyra said as she waved her wand at another nearby cabinet, two glasses and a bottle of wine landed next to her neatly, as the glasses poured themselves. She set one down before him and leaned back into her chair, softly sipping on the wine, her eyes still focused intently on him.

"My pursuits are...difficult. Your country is very different from my own and it particularly closed off to those like me. A foreigner. I've come to do my own research-"

"Difficult?" she interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "Where is it you wish to go that's difficult?" she raised her hand and the parchment that had been in Tom's hand appeared in hers. She read the scribbled notes and looked back up at him slowly, deep in thought.

Tom scowled at her actions, she had taken the parchment without his voiced permission, an act he would have never allowed under any other circumstance. He tried to smile politely to hide his feelings, he needed her aid and could not risk angering her.

"Research, you said it was?" Lyra said, holding out her glass to be refilled from the floating wine bottle. "This is indeed some difficult territory to meddle in...I won't pry into your business Mr. Riddle, you have a right to your privacy,, but the destinations you have written down on here are of interesting choice...New Orleans and Salem to name a few…."

She trailed off, not needing to read aloud all of his desires. She narrowed her eyes and rubbed her temples gently. "Tell me Mr. Riddle, are you familiar with anything about this country other than what you have read?"

Tom answered her with a cold silence.

"Aside from witches and wizards who would rather kill you than share anything with you, you need to fear the creatures we might encounter more Mr. Riddle."

"I assure you Ms. Leroux, I am quite capable of handling myself." he said softly.

"I don't doubt that." she said quietly, still deep in thought. She got up from the desk and walked over to the fireplace, standing directly in front of it. Swirling the wine around in the glass.

"Now, time to discuss payment. For reasons, I don't care to indulge, I myself am searching for something. Normally, a trip such as yours I would charge well over one hundred thousand dragots. Which I assume, you do not have."

She was once again met with silence. She continued softly. "You happen to have come to me at the right time. As fate would have it, I will be stopping at every one of your cities you have outlined on my way, more or less. So I will take you with me."

Tom looked up suspiciously at her, unwilling to accept his luck.

"That's an incredibly generous offer Ms. Leroux, but I must insist on at least compensating you partially for your trouble." He spoke softly, trying to appear genuine and polite to the witch in front of him. He of course had had no intention of compensating her, he would use her and her knowledge of this country and when he was done with her he would dispose of her like he had done to so many before.

A small whistling noise came from a tiny sphere encased in glass on her desk, whirring and screeching louder with every second that passed. Lyra's concentration broke as she took the small item off the desktop and shoved it hastily into a drawer.

Her eyes narrowed and locked onto Toms once more as she replied "Payment is not needed Mr. Riddle, but my offer does come with stipulations."

"What kind of stipulations?" Tom said, raising an eyebrow, smiling at her.

"I will visit the cities on your list in an order in which I see fit and I may disappear at any time for any length of time I desire. Since I am not on retainer, I will not be subject to any demands you make of me. I will also not tolerate questions of any kind pertaining to my personal business, I in turn will not ask you any questions about your research."

Tom sat quietly as he sipped his wine, looking at her intently.

"Do you agree Mr. Riddle?"

Tom smiled at her and nodded his head. "I do. I look forward to our time spent together."

Lyra nodded and took another sip of wine. Lost in her thoughts for a moment, she reflected on the man in front of her and wondered if she would regret the bargain she had just struck. Her sneak-o-scope had gone wild after he had agreed to her proposal.

" _They are unreliable and easily tricked, but they do hold a bit of truth...be careful around this one._ "

By appearance, the man in front of her seemed genuine, polite and charming. He was also incredibly handsome...unnaturally so. His eyes were a deep chocolate brown, his hair hung darkly around his perfect cheekbones, his skin as pale as milk. He spoke with an uncommon softness that was rare amongst men his age, she had watched him closely in the small time they had been in each other's company and she had found no reason to distrust him. But for some odd reason she had a feeling in her gut that was telling her otherwise, that this one needed to be watched closely.

He was not what he appeared.

Something about him intrigued her, she knew she had never laid eyes on him before, but somehow, something about him felt familiar, something she had felt once in a dream...

She slowly put the glass down and raised her eyes to meet his unwavering gaze, still focused on her. "Well then Mr. Riddle, we leave at dawn. I assume you must need rest, your first day here I'm sure has been a long one."

She raised herself up from her chair as she turned and walked towards one of the overstuffed chairs by the fire, gazing into its depths.

"That's very kind of you Ms. Leroux, but if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer we leave now. The earlier the start, the better…" He spoke in a gentle but assertive voice. He was eager to begin.

Lyra noticed a strange gleam in his eyes as she felt a sharp stab toward the side of her head and blocked it out. She rubbed her temples and looked back into the fire, contemplating his request.

"As you wish." she replied.

* * *

 **4/8/2020- Chapter Revision. So I don't think I even wrote commentary for after this chapter, (it honestly doesn't matter). But I revised this slightly (did not change the plot or chapter points at ALL.) due to writing differences, I started this fic a long time ago and my first chapters (in my opinion) made me want to cringe. So hope you guys enjoyed the revised version! Don't forget to Review, Follow and add it to your Favs! xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

Tom stood up from his chair and ran his hands over the bottom of his suit jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric. He flicked his wand towards his map that lay open upon the desk and watched as it folded itself up neatly and flew back into the suitcase, which he had slightly cracked open. He locked it again once more as he turned towards the witch who was still standing in front of the fireplace, staring absentmindedly into the flames.

Lost in her thoughts, Lyra became aware once more of the man eagerly waiting behind her for them to depart and quickly waved her hand in front of the fireplace, extinguishing the roaring fire. She walked over to the small table across the room and bent down behind her desk, grabbing a small black purse as she returned to the center of the room. She placed it gently on the floor as she pulled out her wand quickly pointing it towards the bag.

"Totum Introrsum!"

She stood back as all over the room, furniture and her belongings started to shake and tremble.

Tom watched as books neatly piled onto themselves and flew into the open bag, while papers started to refile themselves into drawers and the table he had just sat beside slowly shrunk, disappearing into the purse, alongside cabinets, candles and the furnishings. Within a matter of minutes the two of them were left standing across from each other in a dark gloomy room, dusty and decrepit, empty of all the warmth that possessed it only moments before. He looked down as he felt something move below his feet and saw a sheet of parchment stuck under his foot, wriggling and trying desperately to free itself so it could retreat into the purse, alongside everything else.

"If you would please.." Lyra raised an eyebrow and looked down towards the trapped sheet of parchment on the floor. Tom raised his foot as the sheet shot violently out from underneath him and zipped right into the bag, which shut loudly as the last belonging was now tucked safely inside.

"Well Mr. Riddle...I suppose we should get going. Time wasted here, is time well spent elsewhere." She threw her cloak over herself as she walked towards him, stopping only inches away from where he stood and held out her hand towards him, her fingers relaxed and outstretched.

"Quickly please and do not let go. We have quite some distance to travel and I don't want to be seperated or have to come looking for you. You are unfamiliar with where we are going, so I'm afraid this is our only option."

She smiled reassuringly at him as Tom glanced at her outstretched hand, hesitant. It had been a very long time since he had touched another human being, the last he could recall was around the time he had murdered Hepzibah Smith, he had been forced to kiss her leathery hand every time he had come to visit and it revolted him. Besides that, he could not recall ever remembering the touch of another's skin against his. He disliked the idea of it, the feeling uncomfortable and undesirable to him; awkward and too intimate for his liking.

Lyra watched him impatiently as he stared at her hand, looking as though she had offered him poison. She took one more step forward and relaxed her hand more, as if to coax him.

"Perhaps it's better to wait til-"

Tom's eyes shot up towards hers and pushed his feelings of discomfort aside as he slowly placed his hand into hers. As his fingertips touched her own, he was met with a sharp jolt that traveled through his arm and felt as if his whole body was on fire. Her hand was warm and her skin soft, it did not feel at all like what he had imagined. The sensation was strange and he felt an unfamiliar burn rise up in his stomach.

"Now remember...don't let go until I say." Lyra said softly as she closed her hand on his. Tom raised an eyebrow and nodded his head stiffly, still uncomfortable and prepared himself for what was to come next. Lyra closed her eyes in concentration.

Suddenly, they both disapparated from the room with a loud crack.

* * *

 _ **CRACK!**_

As Tom opened his eyes, he felt a large burst of wind blow through his hair and push against his body as the air was knocked from his lungs. He looked around and saw nothing but the night sky around him and the city speckled in lights below him in the distance. He looked down towards his feet and almost lost his balance as he realized the height at which they stood. Lyra had apparated them directly onto the scaffolding of an enormous bridge, hundreds of feet above the city and he saw the ocean that lay below, churning and rolling angrily as a storm rolled in. He watched as muggle cars sped underneath them in a sea of red and yellow lights, the noise they made echoing off the steel walls of the overpass. He felt her hand squeeze his hand tightly and looked at her quickly before he felt the familiar pull of disapparation in his stomach once more.

 _ **CRACK!**_

He felt solid ground again beneath him as they reappeared in another place, quiet and still. The bustle and noise of the city was gone, replaced with a gentle humming. He could still hear the sounds of cars racing past, though they were distant and further away then they had been before. He felt the earth give gently around his feet, and he could make out the sounds of grass and leaves crunching beneath him as he looked at the forest they had appeared in. Through the thickets and trees he could see an illuminated road in the distance, still thrumming with the occasional car or two, driving by the wood and illuminating it with their passing lights. Tom glanced at Lyra, curious as to where she was taking him.

" _She didn't mention where we were headed…_ " He thought to himself.

Her hair was wind blown and hung around her face in waves, her cheeks rosy and glowing, adding to her already beautiful appearance. She closed her eyes as she took a deep breath, trying to take in as much fresh air as she could. As she opened her eyes she looked at their surroundings and gently said "Once more and then we rest for the night. Apparating for two trying to cover this distance is starting to weigh on me...more so than I thought it would."

Tom nodded in silence.

" _I know I was eager to get as far as we could tonight, but I'm tired as well...It's been a long day and the rest would probably prove beneficial…_ "

He felt her once again tighten her grip as they melted away from their surroundings.

 _ **CRACK!**_

In a sudden finality Tom felt his feet hit the ground as Lyra let go of his hand. The air was still and everything around them was clouded by darkness. As his eyes started to adjust to the black of the night around them, he could start to make out trees and a sprawling landscape before them. This final apparation had taken them further into the woods than before, where noise and light couldn't be heard or seen for miles around.

Tom pulled out his wand, trying to see more of what was around them. With a small flick the tip of his wand illuminated and cast light down on the forest floor beneath him. Lyra, only steps away, turned her head around quickly at the small glow of light his wand exuded.

"Put that out now!" She hissed quietly. "That light will draw nothing but trouble. "

He stared at her strangely, extinguishing his wand with irritated shake and watched as she held her wand out in front of her and started to chant incantations.

"Protego Maxima, Fianto Duri, Repello Inimicum"

As she kept chanting a small bubble started to form around the clearing in which they had the landed, shutting them away from the world outside.

Tom observed Lyra quietly, her chest heaved with exhaustion, her face strained as she continued her enchantments. He flicked out his wand and softly said "Protego horribilis."

A light blue stream poured steadily from his wand into the growing bubble as it completed her protective charms and flashed with a powerful light, fading into nothing. She turned around and faintly nodded at him.

"Thank you for that. It would have taken me much longer in my current state."

He nodded in acknowledgement and continued to try to look at his surroundings, wondering where they were.

She took a look around the small clearing and opened her purse. Pointing the tip of her wand inside her bag, she flicked it carefully and stood back as a small canvas square fell onto the forest floor. It slowly started to expand and grow, unfolding and strapping itself down to the ground, until a small tent appeared before them.

Tom eyed the meager tent disdainfully. The size left much to be desired and had hoped he would get some much needed privacy tonight, but by the looks of it, he would be lucky to even get some sleep.

"Rather small isn't it?" He said, trying to hide his aversion.

"I like to think of it as cozy." She smiled as she walked past him and into the tent, a warm glow appearing from the inside.

Tom frowned and hesitantly followed her through the tent door, only to be surprised with what he had found inside. The interior of the tent was enormous, equal to that of any normal sized apartment with a large common area, complete with a fireplace, couches and chairs. A small kitchen lay to the right side equipped with a breakfast nook, sink and a small oven, while on the other side of the tent sat two closed wooden doors. As to what they led to...Tom could only guess.

Lyra took her travelling cloak off and waved her wand over the fireplace, a small roaring fire appeared instantly, heating up the tent.

"Comfy isn't it?" said Lyra as she warmed her hands over the fire.

Tom looked around once more, slightly happier at the prospects of not having to be crammed into a small, one person tent.

"An extension charm...very clever." He looked once more at the two wooden doors, curious as to what lay behind them. "And these doors?"

Lyra looked over her shoulder at him and motioned with her head. "Bedrooms of course. Not very large, but they'll suffice. Take whichever you'd like, or take both. Doesn't make any difference to me, I won't be here for long tonight."

Tom raised an eyebrow and frowned. "You won't be staying tonight? Where then will you be going if I might be as presumptuous to ask? I had assumed we had stopped for the night on account of you needing rest."

The smile on Lyras face faded as she quickly grabbed her cloak once more. Her eyes held a faraway look and turned cold quickly.

"Remember the terms of our agreement Mr. Riddle. Those are questions whose answers don't concern you. Get some rest tonight, we will be leaving at daybreak tomorrow. From what I can tell, you're a smart man and you'll be sorely upset tomorrow if you aren't feeling refreshed."

She threw her cloak over herself as she turned to walk out of the tent.

"Oh and Mr. Riddle?"

Tom, irritated at her belligerent attitude, looked once more towards her.

"Do not leave this tent tonight under any circumstance. The nights here do not belong to us. There are creatures that reside in these woods that feast on flesh, no-maj and wizard alike."

"Do you presume me incapable?" Tom said, a hint of anger rising in his voice. His soft and quiet facade started to crumble, along with his patience. "Do not think for one second I shall stand to be treated as your inferior. I can assure you I have performed magic more complex than you could ever dream of." He snarled. His gentle demeanor was gone.

For an instant Lyra thought she saw a glimpse of red flash in his eyes, but tried to shake it off as her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, playing tricks on her. She sighed and continued. "I didn't mean to offend you Mr. Riddle. I don't doubt your skill or talent. But you are unfamiliar with this land and what hunts within its confines. I simply made a suggestion."

Tom, realizing he had lost his temper and revealed more of himself than he should have, closed his eyes and tried to regain his composure. He looked at her once more and tried to smile, speaking softly "I see...I fear I must apologize for my behavior. Your concern was well placed, I'm just incredibly tired you see and I'm not feeling...quite myself. I've taken my frustrations out on you...A good night sleep is probably best. You're quite right."

She nodded curtly and turned once more towards the door. "Good night then Mr. Riddle." And then she was gone.

* * *

As Tom watched her leave, his smile faded and started to turn sour. He turned and walked towards the first door on his right, turning the knob gently and pushed the door inward.

"Lumos."

He held his wand in front of him, illuminating the dark room he had just walked into, he noticed candles hanging from the wall and flicked his wand towards them, igniting them. As the light spread over the room he placed his wand back in his pocket and peered around at his quarters. The bedroom was decently sized, with clean white walls and a small bed that stood in the corner, the sheets neatly tucked in with large fluffy pillows that lay near the headboard. A small wooden nightstand was placed next to the bed, bare and empty. Across the room was a small desk undecorated again, save for a small quill pen and parchment that had been placed neatly on top. Tom closed the door behind him quietly and placed his suitcase on the table. He sat down on the bed slowly, rubbing his eyes and temples.

He was irritated he had lost his composure so quickly. The situation he found himself in wasn't ideal, he preferred to be alone and aside from his occasional dealings with others, he had never

spent much time one on one with someone for a prolonged period of time. Even at Hogwarts, though he had managed to attract a group of followers who he interacted with daily, most of his time was still spent alone.

He was gifted and powerful, admired by his peers, praised by his teachers and in turn they flocked to him like sheep, asking for favours, presenting him with their undying loyalty. They hid behind his talent to make themselves feel more influential and important, he knew this. It was their fear and cowardice that had allowed him to manipulate them, to make them believe in his vision, he promised that they would rise to power beside him as long as they followed his every word, his every movement. But this time, the situation was not the same.

" _I need to keep my anger in control. I can't afford to risk my entire venture because I feel uncomfortable. I need her to trust me...otherwise I'll never get what I need…_ "

He decided from this moment on, his words needed to be honeyed and soft, he must never let his emotions get the better of himself like they had tonight. His vanity and temper must be kept in check.

Tom stood up and stared into the old dusty mirror hanging above his nightstand, taking a hard look at his physical appearance. His hair had gotten longer, it had started to fall slightly below his ears and his face was more hollow than it had been before. He rubbed his chin and tilted his head to take a closer look at his eyes. They were bloodshot and tired, looking worse they had been months before.

" _The last horcrux took more out of me than I thought it would…_ " He snorted and shook his head.

" _No matter._ "

Everything he had done was worth it. He now had four talismans that would help him cheat death and he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. He had never been vain about his looks, only his power. His physical appearance meant nothing to him, it was just another bitter unpleasant reminder of his father, the handsome filthy muggle who had abandoned his family and left them for dead. Tom hated him, even in death, finding his likeness to his father repulsive, along with his namesake that he had been forced to bear.

He ran his fingers through his dark hair and started to unbutton his shirt, preparing himself for the rest he so desperately needed. As he shrugged his shirt off, he grabbed his wand and aimed it towards the door, whispering incantations as he sealed it from the inside. He didn't think that Lyra would be as brash as to try anything in the still of the night, even if she tried he was certain he could overcome her, but he still felt the need to take precautions. He waved his wand towards the candles and extinguished them as he lay down in the bed, pulling the sheets over him.

He lay there in silence as his thoughts raced. He re-traced his day, going over small details in his head, but they always led back to the same thing.

Lyra. Something about her wasn't right.

He had only known her a few short hours and yet, something about her irked him. She was powerful, he could feel it and he had noticed small details about her that angered him. She seemed proficient at wandless magic, which was very hard to perform, he himself still had trouble performing even the simplest of magic, once he separated himself from his wand and she was skilled at occlumency, another skill he was not fond of. He was incredibly talented at legilimency, he prided himself on being able to break others minds, to see what they did not want him to and when he had tried it on her earlier, he had been met with what felt like a brick wall.

Then there was the way she had left so abruptly, to wander off into the night despite her apparent exhaustion and weakness. It was very curious. He of course was happy to be left alone to his devices and his own company, but something was off. He could feel it and he would find out what secret she was hiding. He thought back to the maps and newspaper clippings he had tried to read back in New York, before she had hidden them away from his prying eyes and was certain there was something hidden amongst those pages and maps.

He smirked to himself as he re-positioned his body in bed. " _If she has something to hide, I could use it to my advantage... If I can find out what it is, I could use it as leverage...Then she would have no choice but to take me wherever I desire and quickly and I won't have to waste as much time here as I thought I would._ "

He had no intention of devoting himself entirely to finding out what she was hiding, but in his spare time if he found out, he would use it to his advantage. Manipulation was a sharp tool and he had perfected the art.

* * *

 **(Chapter 5 revised 4/9/2020)**

 **Chapter 5, FINALLY FINISHED. So sorry it took me a couple extra days to update, it's been a real hell of a week, I broke one of my fingers, so typing has been a CHALLENGE. Also, the holidays have been super crazy and I've been trying to juggle everything at once. I finally figured out how to add horizontal lines, separating different thoughts and scenes in the story, so I went back into the first couple chapters and added them in where they SHOULD have been before the document editor decided to delete them all.**

 **Hopefully the story is starting to pick up in a good way for everyone, I do anticipate this fic being VERY long. I'm sorry if the chapters aren't as long as some other fanfictions, but i do like to separate certain thoughts and ideas and not cram them all into one long run on chapter. To me, it makes for a more exciting read. BUT ANYWAY with that being said please review & follow, I will try to update with one or two more chapters before the year ends, fingers crossed!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

The night was dark and the woods lay silent as Lyra made her way through the thickets and brush, her only companion the quiet snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves under her feet as she walked across the forest floor. As she pushed a few branches out of her path with her hand, she kept her wand out and ready, prepared in case she ran into trouble. As she walked she came upon a small clearing surrounded by large trees with massive trunks. She paused and inhaled slowly, watching her breath leave her mouth in little puffs.

It was cold and for the first time in a long while she felt unprepared for the environment. She reached into her pocket as she took out a small flask, popping open the top and taking a long swig from it. Her face scrunched unpleasantly as the firewhiskey hit her throat, burning her esophagus as it trickled down her throat. Firewhisky had never been her drink of choice, but the alcohol was as important and essential to her survival in the moment, being a natural repellant for all kinds of dark creatures and beasts. She took another mouthful of the disgusting liquid and shoved it back into her cloak.

" _Damn him._ " She thought as her mind strayed to Tom Riddle.

She hadn't anticipated leaving the tent in such a rush, but she had been eager to be rid of Tom nosing about her business. Yes, they had made camp for the night because of her weariness, but they had stopped also for another reason, one she had not been prepared for . One that she didn't want to share with the strange englishman in her company.

" _Had I known-I was so sure this time I had handled it. That I had everything in control again. I see now that I'm only losing power over myself and there's nothing I can do to stop it."_

As she continued forward her thoughts turned back to Tom. The events in the tent had made her uneasy, his politeness and behavior was obviously a facade. She had known that the minute she had met him, long before he had lost his temper moments ago, that he was not to be trusted. She thought back to New York and the odd pain she had felt in her head as he had stared at her.

" _He is most certainly a legilimens….and a good one at that. I haven't had an attempted legilimency hurt like that in a long time. I need to be careful around him...one slip and everything could be ruined._ "

She wrapped her cloak tighter around her as she leaned up against the trunk of one of the larger trees.

But that was exactly her problem currently. She was starting to slip more frequently, she was losing what little power she had over her situation and keeping it hidden was starting to become more and more of a concern. If she had known what little control she had over herself she would never have agreed to bring him along.

" _Damn my curiosity_." She cursed softly and looked up towards the dark canopy of trees.

She knew he was powerful. She had felt his presence before she had even seen him and she could only cast aspersions as to what he sought. He was not doing research, it was not simple curiosity that had driven him here. It was power and a thirst for forbidden magic. She had seen it before in others, the want and the desire, but they had lacked determination and the will to benefit from it. Tom was different. She could feel it.

As a child she had been plagued with strange dreams, someone speaking to her in a language she could not understand, dreams that had felt so real, feelings that she could not explain...

She had never told anyone about the visions she experienced as a child, as she had grown older they had become less frequent until they had finally stopped. She had read books upon books trying to understand what these dreams in her youth had meant, but found nothing. She had decided to chalk them up to experiences that children went through before their powers had reached adolescence. It was common for young witches and wizards to manifest visions and dreams to help them control what they involuntarily could not.

Still...years later, although she could never put a face to the voice that spoke to her, she could remember the voice and how it's presence had felt. It had been years since she had last dreamt, the small details of the delusion hazy and unfamiliar in her mind, all except for these two things, which she could never forget.

It was for this reason, and only this reason she had even entertained the idea of Tom accompanying her on this voyage. Something about him felt familiar to her. The moment she had felt him near, it sparked to life a feeling she had long forgotten and it caught her attention.

" _You may live to regret this…_ " She knew Visions were usually incorrect or useless and she should have known better than to reflect on the musings of a simple child.

As Lyra lay under the tree a burning feeling started to creep up her spine, sending jolts of pain up and down her body. Anticipating the familiar feeling, she pulled the flask once more from her pocket and spilled its contents into her mouth, trembling as she tucked it back away into her cloak. The world started to spin as she suddenly began to convulse, the world fading to black around her as she gasped for air.

* * *

Tom awoke suddenly with a jolt. He quickly sat upright, disoriented and confused at first as to where he had awoken, then relaxed as fragments of the previous day started to flood his mind. The room was still and looked exactly as he had last remembered. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, wiping the sweat that was beading slowly on his forehead and pushed the hair off his face where it had clung. As he started to take deep breaths, he pushed the blankets slowly off of him and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting the cold floor with a small shock as it sent chills up his spine. Sleep had never come easily to him and ever since he had started creating horcruxes it became less and less attainable for him to get a good night's rest. His dreams were always full of whispers and of screams, strange voices echoing off into the distance. He eventually learned that if he broke up his sleeping pattern throughout the night he would not be disturbed by the constant unrest inside his head, it was tiring, but Tom didn't mind.

He got up from the bed and walked over to his suitcase, grabbing his wand and whispering a spell in parselmouth to unlock the latch. As he opened the lid he reached inside the woolen bag that contained his two most recent acquisitions and pulled out the locket. He cradled it gently in his pale hands, he walked back over to his bed and lay down once more; holding the locket above his face as he turned it carefully around in his palm.

" _Exquisite._ " he thought to himself as he rubbed his fingers over the sides of the locket and his thumb across the front, brushing it over the large "S" that had been encased in what appeared to be small emeralds on the face.

A thought occurred to him as he sat there admiring the necklace in his hands, he hadn't tried to open it yet. He took the locket and held it between his fingers, trying to unfasten the small clasp, only to find that it wouldn't budge. He frowned as he flipped it around, trying to see why it wouldn't open. After a few more failed attempts he grew frustrated and decided to give up, getting back off the bed to return it to the bag. Placing it back into the sack and closing the top of the suitcase, he reached for his wand to seal it back up, but hesitated as a sudden thought sprang to his mind.

Hands shaking with excitement, he once more reached down to pick up the locket and laid it down gingerly on the table next to him. He aimed his wand carefully at the locket and softly whispered something in parseltongue. A small click resonated in his ears and when he glanced down he saw the necklace had finally opened.

He greedily snatched up the jewelry, wondering what treasure lay hidden and opened it up eagerly. His face fell in disappointment when he finally peered inside.

" _It's empty_."

DIsappointed and frustrated he snapped it closed, starting to place it back inside the suitcase when he paused once more. He felt the locket start to hum and vibrate in his hands, as if it had finally awoken, eager to be near to the master it so rightfully belonged to. Instead of placing it once more inside the dusty old suitcase, he pulled it over his head and fastened it around his neck, it thrummed once more, sending a warm feeling throughout his body. He smirked and reached for his shirt on the back of the small chair, putting in on and slowly fastening the buttons one by one all the way up to his collar. He suddenly felt well rested, as if the necklace had somehow rejuvenated him.

He waved his wand towards the candles and lit them, eager to start the day. As he finished getting dressed, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and paused. Leaning closer, he noticed the absence of the dark circles that he had thought permanent underneath his lower lids and realized his face no longer appeared hollow and gaunt. His eyes, to his astonishment, also looked refreshed, no longer bloodshot and red but healthy and brown with the small flecks of amber he had forgotten existed within them. As he ran his hands through his hair, he grinned at his reflection and let out a small laugh. The locket had restored him to how he had looked before his last horcrux.

" _This must be one of the hidden powers of the locket that was spoken of. Very interesting...I wonder what other properties it possesses…."_ he mused to himself. Feeling satisfied with how he looked he turned around to the door with his wand out and removedl the wards he had placed around his room while he had been sleeping. Reaching for the handle he opened it and was immediately greeted by a delicious aroma.

* * *

As Tom stepped into the common area of the tent, the wonderful smells of breakfast hit his nose. The light of a new day started to pour into the tent from outside as Tom made his way towards the kitchen. As he peered inside he watched as the eggs raised themselves into the air, slowly cracking themselves on the side of the pans, sizzling as they cooked. A spatula flipped small sausages and meat on the griddle while water, coffee and juice poured themselves into glasses neatly on the table before him.

" _There's no sign of Lyra..._ " He thought as he entered the kitchen. As breakfast plated itself and rested gently on the table Tom looked around once more, curious about her absence.

He picked up a plate and started to help himself, although he felt refreshed from the locket and what little rest he had, the growling in his stomach was painful to bear. He had scarcely eaten anything since his departure from the boat and he was relieved and satisfied with the spread before him. Tom took a bite of toast and lightly sipped from a glass of juice as his thoughts strayed back to his travelling companion. The tent was tidy, breakfast had been started and she had yet to show herself; he wondered if she had even come back at all. Finishing his breakfast, he watched as the plates and silverware took themselves off to the wash sink, cleaning and rinsing themselves off from the meal and floating slowly back towards the cabinets. He absentmindedly stroked his wand as he sat at the table, lost in his thoughts.

" _I wonder if some creature of the night had her for dinner?_ " Tom smirked as he thought back to her ridiculous warnings the night before. He smiled at the thought for a moment, still irritated with her demeaning behavior and tardy attendance for breakfast. He was anxious to keep moving, time not spent gaining knowledge for what he needed was time wasted in his eyes.

"Good morning Mr. Riddle."

Tom's head jerked up as he saw Lyra enter through the front of the tent, dressed and ready for the morning. Her hair was pinned back gently, loose soft curls falling down her shoulders and her lips were still painted her signature red color. She took off her cloak revealing another form flattering dress as she made her way into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the counter. As she leaned against the table Tom noticed that despite her perfectly groomed and beautiful appearance, her eyes were noticeably tired and worried. She looked as if she had had little to no sleep.

"I trust you rested well?" she said, waving her wand to signal the kitchen that its work was done and that breakfast was over.

"Quite." Tom said gently as he stood up from his chair. Lyra walked past him and sat down on the couch, crossing her long legs slowly motioning for him to come sit down across from her. He walked over towards her, but did not sit. Lyra ignored his refusal to take a seat and put her glass down on a small end table, looking up at him while leaning back into the chair.

"Before we leave there are some...issues I would like to address beforehand." she started as she frowned, as if struggling to find words that would not offend Tom. "I assume that you have not obtained a wand permit to perform magic here Mr. Riddle...Tom?...Am I correct?"

He grimaced at the sound of his name and snorted indignantly.

"A wand permit? I was unaware I needed a wand permit in this country Ms. Leroux."

She furrowed her brows at the sound of her surname. "I hate formalities. Please call me Lyra. Only strangers call me by my last name and I believe you don't fall under that category as we became properly acquainted yesterday."

"As you wish." he said softly "Now why am I required-"

"MACUSA is very fond of documenting who comes and goes in this country, they would like all wizards to adhere to the strict rules and restrictions that fall into place here Tom. You shouldn't have a problem performing most spells, most forms of magic are undetectable and are not regulated by MACUSA, but there are some spells that are forbidden to everyone and they have made it so you can be tracked if they ever leave your lips."

"Which spells are prohibited?"

"Can you not think of any Tom?" Lyra said, grabbing her glass from the table next to her and taking a long sip.

"The killing curse." he said quietly, still maintaining eye contact with her, trying not to seem irritated.

"Yes. Amongst a few others. Most curses that are forbidden across the sea are strictly forbidden here, but unlike Europe, MACUSA has placed a trace on the incantations, that will lead them directly to you if proper action isn't taken. The penalty for using one is life imprisonment, the penalty for using one without a wand permit is death. No trial, no exceptions." Lyra took a long sip again and met his eyes again.

"I see.." he spoke softly rubbing his chin. "Are there any other little surprises about your country I should know about?"

She shrugged and placed her glass down. "I'll fill you in as needed. We'll be fine as long as you keep a low profile."

He nodded as she stood up from the couch and reached out her hand in the direction of her purse across the room, it flew over to her and landed in her outstretched palm. "Well then, now that that's been sorted meet me outside in a few minutes and we'll be on our way."

She exited the tent as Tom wandered back to his room to retrieve his suitcase and jacket. The information he had just learned was a nuisance, he had known America was stricter in its enforcement of magical law but he hadn't anticipated trace spells on some of his most commonly used curses.

" _No matter. There are other ways to achieve the same results. If needed I'll just have to be more resourceful._ "

He took a last look around as he left the room and exited the tent, walking towards Lyra who awaited him in the middle of the clearing. She nodded at him and looked back towards the tent, waving her wand in a swirling motion as the tent started to collapse and fold back into the small canvas square it had started as. She opened her purse as it zoomed inside and started to rifle around inside it as if she were looking for something else.

"Ah. Tom as I had mentioned earlier, you haven't obtained a wand permit and where we are going you will require a wand that has...err... the proper permits attached to it." She quickly pulled another wand from her bag and handed it to him, watching his face wrinkle as he took the unimpressive plain wand from her hand.

"I know it's nothing fancy, but you won't have to use it, just present it when it is asked of you."

Tom looked down at the gnarled wand in his hand and grimaced. It felt alien to him, unimpressive and stagnant. He couldn't produce powerful magic with this wand if he had even tried.

"Dogwood I believe," said Lyra as she pulled out a different wand other than hers from the bag and dusted it off. "I've decided it's not really capable of any noteworthy magic but it'll do. This one however…" she said while wiggling the other wand around and continued, "This one is completely dreadful, Hazel I think...either way it absolutely hates me and completely just refuses to do magic if it doesn't feel like it. Of the two, be happy you have the better one."

Tom rolled his eyes a little and watched her as she dug around in her purse once more. She pulled out two silver flasks and closed her purse as she handed one to him.

He stared at her incredulously as he took the flask. "I'm not in the mood for drinks currently, thank you." He tried to hand it back to her but she pushed it back into his hands forcefully.

"I didn't hand that to you for recreational drinking Tom. These woods are full of hidebehinds. They make no shadows, hold no shapes and can conceal themselves from their prey. They stalk their intended victims for hours, even days and can strike at any time. So, unless you want them feasting on your insides I suggest you take a sip of that every so often. For some reason, they despise the smell and taste of alcohol. It'll keep you safe."

Tom had recalled reading about hidebehinds in one of the books he had brought along with him, although he couldn't recall exactly the book going into that much detail about them. Noting the serious look on her face, he thought it best to take a sip, just to air on the side of caution. His horcruxes ensured he couldn't die, but they didn't prevent him from bodily harm or from losing his physical form. His nose wrinkled as he drank what he felt tasted like shoe polish, forcing it down his throat quickly.

"It's not pleasant, but it gets the job done." Lyra said as she forced down her own gulp and put the flask back into her pocket. "Now then, shall we?"

Lyra held out her hand once more to Tom, who this time took it gently without hesitation. He once more felt the strange burning sensation in his stomach and felt a hot flush rise up his cheeks. He tried to shake the feeling as he softly spoke. "You haven't said where we are going."

Lyra tightened her grip on his hand as she prepared to disapparate. "Ah. That's right I didn't. Salem of course. Wasn't that somewhere on your list?"

As he opened his mouth to reply, he felt his stomach twist and the familiar feeling that he was being forced through a tight rubber tube. They had already disapparated.

* * *

 **So glad I actually got to finish an additional chapter before the holiday! I go on vacation in two days so I can't promise another chapter before the New Year, but I will try my best to write a little during the holiday or at least make some chapters notes so when I get back I can have the next chapters pre-outlined.**

 **Hopefully everyone is enjoying the story so far, I would really love some feedback on the character development, I'm trying SO HARD to keep Tom in character, but due to really a huge lack of personal dialogue from Tom Riddle in the books I can only really guess on how he would react in certain situations. I do feel like Tom would definitely overlook certain things about various countries, their creatures and inhabitants because even throughout most of the books, he tends to look at the larger picture and ignore small details. So hopefully it seems logical in that aspect. And up to now I do hope everyone does enjoy the OC. I personally feel that Tom would not get along or tolerate someone who consistently was belligerent or too outspoken and I tried to create a character that challenges and surprises him in all the right ways. I personally find it hard to read fanfiction where the character personalities don't match in any way and then make the actual REAL characters, which whom the stories are based around completely OOC.**

 **SO please please please like, follow and review! I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

 _ **CRACK!**_

Tom felt the soft ground under his feet as they had apparated into yet another wooded area. As he took a quick glance around, he realized he was still holding Lyra's hand and quickly let go of it as if it were made of poison. He rubbed his hand against the side of his pants, as if the motion would take away his discomfort. Lyra pretended not to notice as she took note of her surroundings.

"Well then, a quick five minute walk through these woods and we will find ourselves right in the heart of Salem." She brushed a leaf off her cloak as she started to walk through the trees and brush towards a small footpath in the distance, Tom followed closely behind her, eager to see the famed witch city for himself.

They were both silent as they made their way up the dirt path, it seem to go on for ages as Tom looked up towards the naked towering trees hanging over the trail. What would normally be a lush sea of green before them was still thawing from the cold of the winter that had just passed and the ground was still scattered with empty brushes and dead leaves. He watched as a small townscape could be made out ahead in the distance through the mouth of the forest. The dirt foot trail they had been walking slowly disappeared as hard stones started to take place of the dirt, forming a pathway underneath them cobbled and worn from old age. Lyra turned around as they approached a small stone wall with iron spikes. In the center of the small wall lay an old iron archway before them, rusted and covered in briars, eerily welcoming them into the towns belly.

"Before we enter Tom, I must warn you to not draw attention to yourself. Salem is old and the heart of our city still lays hidden underneath what No-Maj's have claimed for their own. It is a solemn place and the pain endured centuries ago can still sometimes be felt throughout the city. It is crawling with those who would still hang or burn us at a stake if they could."

" _They could try."_ Tom mused silently as he nodded at Lyra, he was eager to explore the famed witch city.

Lyra started to walk forward and paused again. She turned around to face him fully and her face took on a pained look. "I also feel the need to warn you once more Tom, the air here is dripping with old magic. You will feel things….you will hear things...I ask that you ignore these...abnormalities. Things are not always what they seem here and hearing voices is rarely a sign of anything useful or helpful. Although it's been ages since Salem's tragedy, there are things that lurk in the shadows here that are unnatural...cursed. Our ancestors felt the need to protect themselves and placed certain...measures around the confines of the city to ensure that they would remain safe. Things that are best left forgotten and undisturbed."

Tom studied her face quietly, her concern seemed genuine. The idea that he, all of all people, needed to be warned like an insolent child once more irritated him, but he did not betray his feelings with angry words, he spoke as quietly and softly as he had before. "Voices and feelings hold no interest for me, I'm only here for my research and that alone."

She frowned at him and looked upwards towards the sky as a murder of crows flew out of the city, landing in a tree above them, their cries filling the quiet air of the woods. "What we proclaim we intend to do and what we internally decide to do are two different things Tom."

She looked at him once more with a somber look on her face and turned around quickly as the crows stopped their cries in unison, adding even more tension to the gloomy setting around them. "Come," she beckoned forward with a wave of her hand "Spending more time than necessary in the forests here is an unwise decision."

As Lyra passed under the iron archway covered in thorns and brambles she hastened her pace and clutched her cloak closer to her neck to keep the cold air off her chest. She seemed eager to distance them from the desolate woods they had left behind. Tom adjusted his stride to keep up with her, his eyes expressionless as he glared at her backside, his thoughts racing angrily. His eyes flashed red as he recounted her words to him.

How dare she lecture him like a child, she who was beneath him in so many ways, who spoke about magic as if she knew more than him.

He continued on behind her watching her cape billow against the wind, her long dark hair blowing wildly against the wind. He cursed softly and wished he could act freely. In this moment he would love nothing more than to strike her down, to cause her pain and to eradicate her from his sight. But he could not. He needed her influence and her knowledge to get what he needed, he found him reminding himself of the fact often, when his mind raced with impatience and the longing for solitude.

He let out a inaudible growl and shook his head slightly. If he was to get anywhere near the spells and knowledge he so desired, he was going to have to deal with his unwanted companion. It was this forced company that he realized he found more irritating than anything else. He had assumed earlier it was her power and her condescension that repelled him from her, but he knew that the truth was that he had never had had to depend on anyone in his life. As a child growing up in an orphanage he had learned quickly how cruel and lonely the world was and if he had wanted to survive he had to rely on himself for strength. He remained isolated through most of his teenage and adult years as well, relying on his own wit and talents to push himself along. True, he had needed some minimal help along the way from others he had been able to manipulate and charm, but only because certain tasks were better left for others to do, not because he necessarily needed them. This was different.

Tom tried to distract himself from his frustrated feelings as he looked at the brick houses that perfectly lined the streets, each one more manicured than the last. Muggles laughed and ran along the pavements as they entered shops and pubs smiling and talking wildly with one another. He watched as he saw Lyra up ahead make a quick right onto an upcoming street. Tom looked up at the street name as he turned the corner.

" _Essex St…_ " The name had sounded familiar to him, he remembered reading about something on this particular street in one of his books. As he continued on he recognized why he had remembered the name. As if it had jumped straight off the page from one of his books before him stood a large ominous black house, with dark latticed windows and a black door to match the wooden panels that lay outside the building. A large brick chimney could been seen looming over the back side of the structure. He remembered this house and what he had read about it. It was the only muggle house to exist after the trials in Salem. It's original owner had been a blemish on the wizarding community, a famous scourer, whatever that meant. Tom hadn't quite understood the term when he had read about it briefly. The house was unmistakable and the air surrounding it felt putrid and dense, misery and pain still seemed to linger here centuries later. He stopped walking completely and continued to stare at the house before him.

Lyra, not hearing Toms footsteps behind her turned around to see where he had gone. As she glanced over her shoulder she saw him standing in front of the large black house and stopped as a solemn look replaced the anxious one on her face. She walked slowly up to him, standing to his left; he acknowledged her presence by slightly turning his head towards her as she approached.

"The air feels different here." he softly said as Lyra looked towards the house.

"Yes." She said quietly staring back at the house with him. "When terrible things happen in places where there is a significant amount of magical energy, sometimes it creates an impression in the air, permanently changing the way the atmosphere feels around where the event took place."

"Like an imprint." Tom said softly with expressionless eyes.

Lyra nodded as she broke her gaze off the house and glanced back at Tom. "Exactly like that. Those trials were the most tragic thing to have ever happened to our community. This house belonged to someone who used to walk among us, who betrayed his fellow wizards and sent even even some innocent no-majs to death. All for money and power."

She continued to stare at the house with him, standing in silence, stealing glances at him every so often. She considered the man next to her once more. She had known many men with ambition, that had travelled far and wide to uncover all the secrets the world had to offer and she had seen them all fail. Some had been kind and some cruel but they had all been predictable. She could read them like a book, but Tom, Tom was different. He said very little and showed even less. He was attractive, more attractive than most; dark haired and handsome with features that most women would spend their days dreaming about. But his eyes were different. To most people they would seem deep and intense, but to Lyra, they were emotionless and dead, like a doll's eyes. She had never encountered anyone with such lifeless eyes, they made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she could not forget the man from her dreams and how this man in front of her felt so familiar. Her instincts told her to run and to stop aiding him in what he desired, but her curiosity kept getting the better of her.

" _It's the same damned curiosity that put you in your current problem to begin with."_ She kept repeating to herself in her mind, but as with so many other thoughts, she pushed them away. Her thoughts were interrupted as he spoke.

"I came across a term in a book I didn't quite understand, you see we don't have the same terminology where I come from. I believe the term used was Scourer." Tom said calmly as his gaze trailed from the house to a group of muggles entering the building. "Can you enlighten me on this subject….Lyra?"

Lyra narrowed her eyes as she thought for a moment as if how to approach the question and spoke softly, her voice little more than a whisper to keep the story from prying ears. "The history of scourers is a complicated one Tom….and a long one. You see, when wizards starting coming over to America from their respective countries, most of them were fleeing from something or running away from their respective ministries to avoid jail or prosecution. We had no government...it was a free land. But, of course without a lack of government and lack of a strong wizarding community to bind us together these wizards were easily targeted and large sums of money were placed on their heads. Many mercenaries followed them from across the sea, looking to collect the bounties placed on those outcasts and realized that they could collect those rewards by any means necessary and became brutal and bloody in their methods. There was also plenty of money and power to be made by scourers, especially amongst the no- maj puritan communities who were always looking to cleanse the world of witchcraft and evil. They were given titles, money and power for outing innocent witches and wizards, even no-majs to an extent, to the more naive no-majs communities."

She continued. "Eventually MACUSA was formed and the scourers were forced to pay for their atrocities against our kind. Eventually they were excommunicated from our world and immersed themselves into the no-maj way of life, slowly weeding and plucking out any trace of magic from their bloodlines. But the damage was already done by then. It took a long time for wizards and witches to even want to move to America, our communities still suffer from mistrust and secrecy to this day and that is why we live so far underground to this day. "

Tom continued to look on in disgust as another group of muggles entered the house laughing and talking amongst themselves.

"The no-maj's use it as a museum now." Lyra said with an expressionless tone in her voice watching them enter the old house.

Tom frowned and tilted his head towards her slightly in confusion. "You keep saying no-maj. What is a no-maj?"

"It's a term we use for non magical people here. No -maj. No magic…"

"In England we call them muggles." He sniffed indignantly and felt a strange feeling once again radiating off the grounds of the house. He grimaced as he tried to ignore the sickly waves of despair rolling through his bones. "It feels so…"

"Empty." Said Lyra her eyes distant and far away, lost in thought. "These grounds are cursed as well...or at least rumoured to be. They say a curse was placed upon the house, by who or whom no one is sure, but it is said that the curse ensures that nothing will live or feel happiness in this place as long as the house still stands. A myth, but seems to ring true nonetheless."

She slowly pointed at the ground as Tom observed, the grass was dead and dry, no plants seemed to grow around the yard and two dead trees stood at either side of the house. The land was barren.

Lyra, feeling the pangs of unhappiness spreading into her bones like wildfire decided their time here was up and no longer wished to stand in front on the house for any minute more than she already had. "We should go Tom. Let's not waste the day on this."

"I quite agree…" he spoke softly and slowly took his gaze off the house, his eyes shifting their attention onto Lyra's strange looking ones, the brown eye soft and inviting, the blue one cold and piercing.. The sides of her mouth turned up slightly in a half smile as if to reassure him and she turned around once more, continuing her journey.

Tom felt a strange sensation in his stomach again and quickly tried to ignore it, he had preferred the melancholy way the house had made him feel as opposed to this strange burning feeling in his gut. He followed her through the city for what seemed like an eternity until they came to a stop in front of a large iron fence, the top adorned with spikes to prevent people from hopping over its walls and into what revealed itself to be a cemetary. A white decrepit building could be seen off to the side, old and abandoned, or at least it seemed so. As they entered the old graveyard Tom read a small sign above their heads that read:

 **THE BURYING POINT**

 **1637**

 **OLDEST BURYING GROUND IN THE CITY**

What was said underneath he was unsure of, he hadn't enough time to actually read that far as Lyra had begun to pick up her pace and walk quickly towards an old gnarled tree in the center of the cemetery. He walked past crumbling headstones and tried to make out some of the the names on the old slabs of stone, while trying to avoid stepping on broken bottles and debri that had been left behind by muggle visitors. Many of the tombstones if not all were illegible, evidence that the cemetery was indeed older than the country itself. He watched Lyra approach the tree and turn around, looking at him impatiently waiting for him to catch up.

"Quickly Tom." she spoke in a hushed voice. "And stand closely to me, make sure no one is watching."

Tom came to a stop about a foot from where she stood and looked around the cemetery lazily, while she pulled out her wand. He glanced back towards her as she aimed her wand at a small marking on the tree. It was a small neat circular rune with a long lines through the middle and the top, too neatly carved to have been made with a knife.

"Velim Vestibulum." she whispered as she raised her wand and slowly turned it like a key. Tom watched as the tree groaned and crackled as if it was breaking in two. The bottom of the trunk of the massive tree started to shift and split, small fissures forming at its base until a small door appeared before them outlined in a golden glow, a shiny brass knob lay gleaming in the middle of the frame. Lyra looked at Tom briefly and reached towards the doorknob, turning it slowly and pushing the door inwards. She motioned towards Tom beckoning him to enter first. As he walked passed her and stooped to walk through the small, dark entry way he caught another glimpse of the rune and turned his head towards hers, narrowing his eyes as he walked down the steps into a dark tunnel.

"That rune. What does it mean?"

Lyra climbed down into the tree trunk after him, carefully watching her feet as she made her way down the rickety steps. She closed the door with a heavy thump behind her and Tom watched as the gold shining outline of the door begin to fade. He lit his wand and offered his hand reluctantly to her as she took it, carefully coming off the last step, the ends of her long cloak and robes in her other hand, holding them up carefully as she finally placed her feet on the floor delicately as if not to trip. In the dim light his wand had produced, he thought he had seen a red glow creep up her cheeks, but quickly pushed it out of his mind as she spoke.

"Thank you. That last step is always a real pain. Now what was it you said again?"

She dropped the edges of her robes onto the floor once more as she looked around and raised her hand. Lights started to appear on both sides of the walls of tunnel, stretching down until Tom could no longer see and revealed the passageway they were standing in.

" _Wandless magic again…_ " he thought to himself as he felt his insides burn with a stinging anger and jealousy. " _How is it that she can perform magic without a wand so effortlessly and I still need mine."_

Lyra started walking as Tom strode next to her looking at his strange surroundings. The tunnel was large enough to stand in, but crudely made and covered in dirt, the roots of trees still poking out of the ceiling of their dirt pathway. He felt as if he were a rabbit, making his way through an underground burrow.

"The rune. What did it mean?" he said as he continued to walk beside her pushing a dangling root to the side so as not to be struck with it as he passed underneath.

"It is the mark of Salem." she said as they made their way through the dirt covered tunnel. "There are many entrances scattered throughout the city, all marked with that rune so no one loses their way. During the trials many entrances were set up through Salem so witches and wizards were able to quickly escape back the where we belonged without the worry of being caught by scourers. All lead into the heart of salem."

"I see…" said Tom softly as he rubbed his chin. He made a mental note to remember the incantation she had used in case he needed it in the future.

As they walked on, Tom spotted another small door at the end of the tunnel, rolling his wand back and forth through his pocket anxiously, his other hand tightly gripped his suitcase in anticipation. The door was taller than the last and had the same rune carved onto its gnarled wooden surface. Lyra stopped at the door and turned around to him as if waiting for something.

Tom looked at her, curious as to why she had stopped.

"Well then?" he said calmly, trying to mask the impatience in his voice.

"Well, I figured since Salem was first on your list, you might want the honors. Unless you want me to-"

Lyra hadn't finished her sentence before Tom aimed his wand quickly at the door and mentally spoke the incantation inside his head. He looked briefly at her as the door swung open, flooding the tunnel with sunlight.

Salem was awaiting him.

* * *

 **Finally back from vacation and super sorry this chapter took so long to post, I hope everyone's holiday was lovely! I have so many chapters pre written with little notes and ideas, but this** **one was a little more difficult and it took me awhile to stitch some of these ideas together to get Tom and Lyra from point a to point b. I've already half finished the next chapter so hopefully I will have it up by thursday! Once again this story will probably end up being super long, so character development will take a little bit of time. Hope you all enjoyed! Please follow and review if you'd like! Questions or kudos or criticism is always appreciated.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

Tom shielded his eyes as they made their way from the dark tunnel into the sunlight shining over Salem. The small city was loud and full of life as they walked up a small stone path leading onto the street. The city itself reminded him of Diagon Alley, small shops and curiosities littered the sidewalks and streets as witches and wizards pushed their way past them, talking, laughing and smiling amongst themselves. As Tom and Lyra made their way down the street, they passed a multitude of shops selling various goods such as books, cauldrons, potion ingredients and robes. Tom turned his head as they passed a haughty witch covered in boils standing outside a cosmetic shop complaining about the severe allergic reaction one of their new face creams gave her, the owner pleading with her in the street to not make a scene and to come back inside. They also passed a candy shop filled with young children screaming and laughing as they tried to catch chocolate frogs jumping around the windows, eating pepper imps that made them smoke at the mouth and roaring like wild animals as they ate candy that made them sound like muggle mammals, Tom recognized the sweets from his days back at Hogwarts when students would gather in the common room after a trip to hogsmeade and feast on their purchases. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, he had never liked chocolate or sweets of any kind.

"Welcome to Chadwick Square." Lyra looked over at Tom as she watched him take in the sights of the old city. "Was it how you pictured it?"

"Not exactly." said Tom grimacing as a child ran down the street, barreling rudely in between them without an apology, turning his around to laugh at them as he continued to run. "I had pictured something a little more quiet."

Lyra snorted. "It's not always so depressing here Tom, sometimes we actually smile."

He ignored her joke and fixed his jacket that had gone askew when they had been rudely pushed. Lyra smiled again and went to turn her head around when a street merchant selling flowers stepped in front of them, bumping into her.

"I'm so sorry Ma'am!" the young man said as he grabbed a flower from his bag and handed it to Tom. "Please forgive me, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, here's a flower for your wife!"

Tom glanced at Lyra as he saw a definitive red blush creep onto her cheeks. It was a look that at first as a pre-pubescent teenager he had never understood and then as he had gotten older he had gradually come to understand. He had seen the red glow creep onto to fellow female classmates cheeks whispering about him as he passed them in the hallways of Hogwarts, the same red expression creep onto those faces who would come to ask him for favors and on the expressions of those whom he deemed to give praise and flattery to. He had learned as he grew how to use that crimson flush to his advantage.

"Thank you for your consideration." he said gently.

Lyras head quickly jerked towards Tom and then to the rose as she narrowed her eyes.

The young man in front of them shrugged and handed him Tom the flower. "A pretty girl like your wife deserves a flower, sorry for being so clumsy."

Lyra turned towards the young man, feigning a smile. "Thank you very much." He nodded and quickly walked away, Tom watched as the young man turned around every so often, to catch another glimpse of her. He rolled the stem of the flower against his thumb and index finger, until the man was no longer in sight and looked at her once more holding out the flower for her to take. But when he turned back around to face her, he saw that her face had changed, no longer were her cheeks full of the rosy glow he had seen earlier, it was now skeptic and inquisitive.

"Your wife…?" she looked at him with a raised brow.

"I thought it best to not embarrass him..." he said softly "and to spare yourself the embarrassment of refusing his advances."

"Advances?"

"Surely you don't think that was accidental? Or are flowers always handed to you when you walk down streets?" He asked with a tone that poorly masked his amusement.

"Whatever it was, it doesn't matter anymore." She shook her head as she watched a smile play across his lips and when she felt her cheeks warming up once more, she quickly turned away from him and continued to walk down the cobbled pavement. "We need to get going."

" _Advances...how ridiculous._ " She thought to herself as she walked down the street. She brushed her cheek gently as if she could still feel the warmth her they had possessed moments before. She decided that she needed to place distance between herself and Tom as much as possible, she mustn't get distracted from her task at hand and being around him was starting to prove very distracting. She didn't know why she had blushed, perhaps she had just been caught off guard, but ever since she had agreed to let him accompany her, she found him catching her more off guard that she ought. And that she couldn't allow.

Tom looked once more at the flower he held in his hand. Following behind her he paused in front of a nearby patch of bushes and shrubbery, tossing the rose into their midsts. He kept his distance behind her as they continued through Chadwick Square, the storefronts and businesses slowly dwindling in proximity as they continued on, his mind racing as he kept his eyes focused before him on Lyra, his free hand combing his jet black hair away from his face. He had noticed as they had continued on how men looked at her and she seemed not to acknowledge any of it. He laughed to himself as he thought of how foolishly weak most people were. Always looking for some intangible feeling to fill the void in their lives. How most people wasted their energy to satisfy their lust for flesh. He had never once lusted or longed for the touch of another, it was all a distraction, an idea that was created in order to divert them from reaching their full potential. He thanked whatever higher powers there were in existence that he never found himself lusting after another person or desiring some hypothetical fairytale-like emotion that didn't exist. He clicked disapprovingly as he thought further on the topic.

" _Love. How pathetic. There is no such thing, how foolish to waste your life searching for something that doesn't exist. It is only an illusion that others create for themselves, a giant facade of smoke and mirrors."_

He thought back long ago to a day when he was still back in Hogwarts…

* * *

" _Good Morning Class." Professor Dumbledore said as he walked into class "I hope your winter holidays were all splendid and filled with dubious amounts of treacle fudge. I daresay I myself may have treated myself to a sweet or five." His icy blue eyes sparkled with laughter._

" _Please if you would turn your pages to three hundred and seventy five for today's lesson. We will not be transfiguring anything today, so please put your wands away and take out your quills and parchment."_

 _A series of groans came from the classroom as students put their wands away and the sound of parchments rustling and the scraping of quills against them could be heard. Tom sat lazily in his chair waiting for the lesson to begin as the others finished taking their belongings out. His parchment and quill set had already been placed out in front of him, ready since before class had started. He preferred to be prepared for any situation in class early before it had happened._

" _Now in anticipation for the next holiday we have coming up, I would like to take a lesson to talk about and discuss the most powerful and ancient magic in the world. Can anyone guess what it is?"_

 _The class sat silent silent as they turned to look at Tom, his hand usually first in the air. This day it was not. He kept his hand firmly on the desk and stared straight ahead irritated with himself that he did not know the answer and watched as a small hand belonging to a third year gryffindor girl raised into the air slowly, shaking out of nerves._

" _Yes, Ms. Longbottom?"_

" _Erm….isn't it love sir?" she squeaked as he rest of the class laughed._

" _Why yes, Ms. Longbottom that would in fact be correct. Ten points to gryffindor." he said as he smiled and walked towards the front of the classroom, leaning against his desk. "And does anyone know why love is in fact the most powerful magic in the world?"_

 _His question was met with silence. Tom rolled his eyes as Dumbledore continued, annoyed with the waste of a lesson he had to endure._

" _Love is the most powerful emotion in the entire world. We are born from it. Love can make us feel passion. It urges us to make others happy, to keep our loved ones safe and out of this love it make us do things we would not normally do for ourselves. But it also can make us bitter, it can make us do terrible things and it can twist our perception of others and ourselves. I cannot think of anything more terrible than a love gone wrong. By a show of hands can any one think of anything worse than a life without love?"_

 _The class stood still as they all looked around, none raising their hands into the air. Tom saw his opportunity to challenge Dumbledore's logic, he raised his hand in defiance._

 _Dumbledore stood straight from his desk and started to pace at the head of the class, looking curiously at Tom. "Ah. Mr. Riddle, you disagree?"_

 _Tom smiled innocently as his voice took on a scholarly tone. "It's not that I disagree Sir, but isn't death far worse than a life without love? Should we not be more concerned about preventing our deaths than searching for something that won't prolong our life?"_

" _I can see your reasoning Mr. Riddle. Death is always a shrouded figure in our lives, waiting for us behind every corner and wringings it hands together until it can claim us for itself. But it is love that makes our lives worth living, and when you find something worth loving and devoting your life to, death no longer matters. It it just simply a natural end to our lives." He smiled at Tom and turned around to address the class once more._

" _For your assignment I would like three parchments on the ways love has affected your lives, for better or for worse and how you think the topic in question has shaped you as a person. I would also like an example in history as to how love has shaped something in the magical world around us."_

* * *

In Tom's entire history at Hogwarts, it was the only assignment he had never finished or completed.

He snorted once more as the memory faded back into the depths of his mind, his attention once again resting on the woman in front of him. The blush had been there. He had seen it. Normally he would have been frustrated that she hadn't taken the bait of the flower, the easier that flattery affected a person, the faster it was for him to manipulate them. But it was a start.

" _Everything in time._ " he told himself as he grinned, picking up the pace of his steps to close the gap in between them.

"Where are we going?" He asked calmly as they turned down a side street, walking further and further away from the bustling road they had just been travelling down. The scenery getting greyer and colder with every step. Nothing around them here seemed to emanate the warmth that belonged to Chadwick Square and its assortment of people. The sky was morose, the buildings and footpaths lining the small side street were made of various shades of grey stacked slate and the air felt more still and solemn. He had never seen anything this devoid of color in his life.

"You'll see soon enough."

The small dismal street led them into another part of Old Salem, still as colorless as the path they had just taken but more intimidating and authoritative than anything he had yet to see so far in this country. Inside this square lay a new forum of buildings, each made from sparkling white marble and iron ranging in a series of shapes and sizes. The sunlight shone brilliantly through grey skies as it glittered and gleamed off the alabaster walls of the looming structures. Tom looked around him, his eyes charting his surroundings as they passed a large parthenon-like building, with four large marble pillars holding up its massive frame, its steps covered in black wrought iron shining brilliantly as they led up to two archways that granted access inside. Two wizards sat on either side of the archways as people entered and left.

"That's America's most prominent bank, the Treasury of North American Wizarding Currencies and one of the most guarded buildings in Salem."

Tom remained unimpressed as they passed the bank, it did not have the first time charm and intimidation for him that Gringrott's had held for him when he had gazed upon it first as an eleven year old boy. To this day, of all the places in Diagon Alley, Gringotts was the only place he had never stepped foot into. He had never had any money to his name, not as a child or teenager and as an adult his paychecks were so pitiful, he had never seen fit to ever bother to open up an account. One day though, he would find reason to walk its famed halls and caverns.

They passed a few more businesses and a large owlery before they came upon a massive cathedral like structure in front of them, wizards slowly filing in and out of its embankments. Its walls made from the same white marble the rest of the buildings seemed to have been made from, only the roofings, archways and intricacies were made from burnished silver. It was magnificent and it shone in the sun radiantly, blinding him momentarily.

"In front of us lies the most guarded building in all of America, aside from MACUSA headquarters in New York. The Atheneum."

In front of Tom was one of the main reasons for him wanting to come to Salem. The Atheneum was one of the worlds most impressive libraries, housing not only ancient books of european descent as well as other cultures, but books with insights into the heavily guarded secrets he so desired. All the knowledge in the world that he craved, lay within this magnificent walls.

"It's magnificent." he said softly as he traced the immense outline of the building with his eyes.

"Wait until you see the inside." Lyra proceeded up the stretching sterling steps as she whispered "Be alert and have your wand at the ready Tom. This is what we'll be needing them for."

He nodded as she spoke."Forgive me for being forward, but for what reason is all of this necessary?" he asked. He didn't quite understand why his wand should not suffice while reading a few books. They walked up the pearly steps and entered through the intricate wooden panelled doors, he opened his mouth to say something once more but he grew silent at the spectacle around him, Lyra had indeed been correct when she had led him to believe the inside of the library was even more dazzling. The floors they stood on seemed to be made of glass as he looked under his feet, staring down into what seemed like mirror images of himself hundreds of times over. He looked up at the ceiling and found himself looking up into the sky, it reminded him of the Hogwarts dining room hall and its ever changing ceiling of seasons and weather it had been enchanted to show.

Lyra glanced at him, a half smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Beautiful isn't it? It is a marvel in its own right, a true masterpiece to wizarding architecture." She motioned for him to follow her as they took their line in a cue of people lined up to gain access into its halls. "When students complete their courses at Ilvermorny and wish to become aurors or work for certain departments at MACUSA, they come here to study to pass the tests required for employment. This place is almost always buzzing with witches and wizards lost in their studies.

"Sounds fascinating...but I must ask again as to why we need false wands?"

Lyra looked ahead of her, keeping her eyes on the teller as she leaned in towards Tom and whispered "Because of the contents of certain sections in the library, they ask witches and wizards to present their wands to determine if they are here legally and to ensure that no one has a bounty on their head in another country. Many flock here illegally trying to procure information that would otherwise be forbidden to them in different corners of the world. As a precautionary measure, all witches and wizards are asked to obtain library permits for what sections they intend to frequent, if they are indeed restricted. You-" she said pointing her false wand towards Tom "You didn't obtain a wand permit to be here legally, hence the need for a wand with proper permits. And the reasons for me needing a wand other than my own is to simply avoid unwanted attention. Nothing more."

"I see." He said as he rubbed his chin. "And these permits will allow us access to these confined areas?"

"Try not to speak until we are inside." she said to him in a low voice as they approached the front of the line. "Your accent will draw attention...and I'm not sure these wands have the proper permits we need to gain access into...the...erm...better parts of the library. It's still something I'm figuring out."

"Figuring out? he whispered as he raised his brow. "I believe the time has passed for-"

"Ssh!." she shushed him as she faced the desk in front of her impatiently. "I need to think."

He stared at her furiously and grasped the foreign wand tightly. The idea of the the knowledge he so desperately sought in within his reach and not being able to retrieve it made him angrier as the moments passed. This would not do.

"NEXT!" said a middle aged witch with a pinched face from behind the long teller's desk, she tapped her fingers impatiently as they approached her, squinting behind small green pointed spectacles.

"Present your wands please."

Lyra and Tom both placed their wands on the smooth porcelain like surface before them as the witch snatched them up quickly and placed them into a silver basin before her. She waved her wand over them as Lyra stared at her.

"State your purpose and what sections you intend to visit if they are restricted. Keep in mind this will affect your passes and the entry level that you are allowed. Visitors that are found lying or presenting false identifications will be prosecuted accordingly."

Lyra cleared her throat as she spoke, her tone strong and unwavering. "My colleague and I are visiting from New York, we work for MACUSA in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We're here in order to research some peculiarities we've been investigating for some time now along the metropolitan coastline. We'll be needing to visit the lower levels of the Atheneum, as well as access to the rest of the library of course.. "

The woman performed an incantation over the wands once more as she looked down on them narrowing her eyes and peered at them through her pointed glasses.

"Only one of these wands holds the proper permits for the lower levels." She said as she handed Lyra back her wand. "The other does not."

"A clerical error I'm sure." said Lyra as she looked at Tom. "Perhaps you could just let us through today and tomorrow we'll both return with the updated permits?"

Tom reached into his pocket as she tried to plead with the teller. He grasped his wand firmly. He was growing impatient.

"I'm sorry I'm afraid I can't do that!" The woman said as she started to stamp their passes for them.

Tom, still grasping his true wand under his robe spoke softly. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind checking once more madam? It would help me a great deal. I'm sure you just overlooked it."

Lyra watched as a green cloud of smoke slowly billowed from Tom towards the older witch behind the counter and swirled around her head. A far off look replaced the stern one she had just possessed, she smiled at Tom as she waved her hand carelessly around her head.

"No need to check my dear boy, I'm sure I just overlooked something. Enjoy your studies."

"Thank you very much." He smiled, grabbing his false wand and permit off the counter as he turned around to smirk at Lyra. She scowled at him as she walked past the desk towards one of the many lifts in the halls of the gigantic library.

"That confundus curse was risky Tom."

"And what would you have preferred me to do? Your idea of asking nicely wasn't working." he scoffed as they waited for the nearest door to open up.

"Just try to keep a low profile while we're here." she said as she stepped into the elevator-like apparatus. Tom followed her inside and noticed a small house elf in a peculiar suit standing in the corner. It its hand was a lever that seemed to be attached to the lift, he continued to stare as Lyra addressed the small creature.

"Lower levels please. The both of us."

The elf nodded and pulled the lever towards himself as they started to descend into the bowels of the massive library.

* * *

 **Thanks so much for having patience while I got this chapter together! I know I said it would be posted Thursday but it's been a hectic week. Hopefully everyone is enjoying the read thus far, I know the story has been a slow burn BUT I prefer it that way. In regards to character development and etc, I think from this point on we'll be getting more and more of Tom actually trying to manipulate his surroundings and Lyra to his benefit. As always please review, follow, like add the story to your favs, etc. I will try to update this week!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

" _Once the Bokor has given the victim the draught necessary for resurrection, the corpse may then be buried, believed to be dead. With the incantation of a simple spell, the Bokor may then reanimate the dead body, forcing it to respond to his will. In modern times, those who practice voodoo have perfected the art of reanimating the dead, needing to only perform simple spells to will the dead back to life, abolishing the need for special draughts and potions."_

Tom closed the book he had been reading fervently and rubbed his eyes. They had been in Salem a little over a month and his days now consisted of waking up in the small bedroom Lyra had arranged for him above a small pub in the heart of Chadwick Square and heading straight to the Atheneum to scroll through piles of books he had never seen before. She had explained to him that the woods that surrounded the old city weren't safe enough to seek refuge in and they would be better off having proper accommodations. Of Lyra herself he had seen very little of in the past weeks, only catching glimpses of her leaving her room as he came back to sleep for the night, or in occasional passing as they had happened across each other for brief moments in the halls of the tremendous library.

He ran his hands through his hair as he calmly stood up from his seat and grabbed the book to return to it to where it belonged amongst the old wooden shelves covered in dust. Placing it back neatly, he smiled as brushed his fingertips against the spines of the books in the same row, walking slowly back towards the lift in the back of the bowels of the Atheneum. His research thus far had proven far more successful than it had been reading the books he had been able to come across back in Europe. The text were littered with spells and incantations he had never heard of before and were far more detailed in practice than anything he had ever dreamed of. He rubbed his eyes once more as he stepped out of the lift and exited out of the library through the vacant and dark lobby, the moonlight danced across his face as he descended down the great stairs. His eyes were tired and dry, he had spent over thirteen hours in the dark of the library, reading book after book, he hadn't realized the time until he had looked at the large enchanted clock floating in the middle of the floor.

His thoughts strayed back to Lyra as he walked towards the pub, today had marked the seventh day he hadn't seen her at all, not even a glimpse or whisper of her long dark hair turning a corner in the library. He had grown curious in the past few days as to what she was studying or where she went to in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep.

" _She's up to something._ " He thought to himself as he entered through the pub door and walked silently up the old stone steps to his room, slowly pausing for a moment as he passed her door listening for any trace of a sound that would give her whereabouts away. The room remained silent and dark. No noise or light could be heard or seen through the cracks of the large wooden aperture.

" _She's not in there..."_ He glanced back once more as he reached for the doorknob to his room and quickly glanced back once more towards her door narrowing his eyes. " _What are you up to..._ "

He quickly turned around from his doorway and made his way back down the slated steps.

* * *

The clock in the center of the square hit three in the morning as Lyra walked through the dead streets making her way back to the old pub in which she had taken up residency. Her pockets clinked as the sound of glass against glass could be heard faintly. As she slowly entered the silent and dimly lit bar, she tried to make her way softly up the stairs, not wanting to announce her arrival. She suddenly heard a voice speak to her from across the room.

"It's late."

Recognizing the voice, she lowered her eyes and turned around to face him. "Yes. I busy attending to something and I...I lost track of the time."

Tom got up slowly from the table he had been sitting at, closing a book and putting it under his arm, walking slowly towards her. She half smiled and nodded towards the book under his arm.

"Still reading? Your efforts at the Atheneum have been successful I trust?"

"Oh very much so."

"I'm glad to hear it." she said as she placed her foot on the next step of the staircase. "You'll understand if I take myself off to bed? It's been a long day and I'm in need of some rest."

"Of course...I was just about to retire myself." he lied.

She smiled faintly as she walked up two more steps and turned around hesitantly. "Goodnight Tom."

He walked towards the bottom of the banister as he looked up at her strangely. "And to you."

She nodded quickly and walked up to her room, slowly closing the door behind her, unaware of his eyes that still followed.

Tom stood there at the foot of the staircase watching as the night lay still.

* * *

Lyra closed the door slowly behind her as she let out a long breath. She hadn't anticipated running into Tom tonight and was thankful for the quick escape. For the past week she had purposefully avoided him and made sure to do her studying as far away from him as possible, she couldn't let her distractions interfere with what she wanted so desperately to attain. She waved her hand and watched as the candles in the room lit themselves. She took her robe off gently and placed it down onto the small bed that she had longed for days to take comfort in. Warming herself by the small fire that was lit in the hearth, she picked up her wand and stirred a small cauldron that hung carefully over it. Reaching slowly into her pocket, she pulled out two glass vials, one filled with a strange root-like plant inside, the other full of a grey dust. She emptied their contents into the cauldron and stirred the liquid three times in a counter-clockwise motion and waited. Suddenly the cauldron lit up the room with a glowing green light, small blankets of smoke spilling out from over its sides.

" _The Draught of Expulsion is finally complete. "_ she thought to herself as she reached for a small glass she had placed on her nightstand next to her bed. " _If I read the potion book correctly, this should work."_

The first day she had been at the Atheneum she had immersed herself into the darkest potions section, searching desperately for something that could cure her affliction. Only one had even come close to potentially be what she had needed and this was it. The ingredients had been very hard to come by and she had to procure on her own what the market did not sell, one being a human heart burnt to dust. She shook her head at the thought of the last item, she did not want to relive what she had gone through to get the last ingredient.

" _Desperate times call for desperate measures…"_ Lyra reassured herself as she stared into the belly of the cauldron. Her face illuminated by the soft green glow.

She took the cup and slowly dipped it into the potion, filling to the brim with the dark black liquid that had been brewing over the fire. As she raised it to her lips, her hands shook with anticipation she closed her eyes. " _Please work._ "

She opened her mouth as she took her first sip and gagged at the taste. Forcing it down her throat she tried to ignore the taste of decaying flesh as it continued to slip down her esophagus, thick and putrid. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she placed the cup down with a loud thud. Her stomach churned as she walked over to a standing mirror in the corner of the room, looking at her face as if waiting for something to happen. Ten minutes passed as she continued to study her appearance, nothing had changed.

" _It didn't work._ " Bowing her head and clasping her face in her hands, she started to tremble until she felt a small dull pain behind her eye. She looked up quickly, her face lighting up with delight as she watched her blue eye start to glow, growing darker and darker with every second until it matched the soft amber one that had always been.

Lyra smiled and grabbed her face once more, looking into the mirror as she observed her weary appearance start to fade, replaced with one that looked refreshed and familiar. She laughed she touch her cheeks and laid her hand gently across the one eye that had regained its original color.

"It worked…" she whispered softly as she choked back tears of relief. All of her pain, all her torment, it was finally over. She smiled as she turned away from the mirror and started to take off her clothes, eager to enjoy a full nights sleep.

As she bent over to pull the sheets back from the bed she paused, feeling a strange sensation in her torso. A small dull pain started to throb inside her belly, the pain growing unbearable as the pain exploded; she felt as if a white hot knife was being plunged into her belly over and over repeatedly. Grabbing her stomach, she felt her vision beginning to blur as she turned quickly towards the mirror once more.

" _What's happening to me?"_ she thought as she writhed in agony, terrified, as she watched black beads of sweat running down from her forehead. " _What's going on?"_

Her eyes widened in horror as the same liquid she had just drank had started to flow from her eyes, thick and hot like tar. She screamed as she watched, her vision slowly fading as the viscous fluid continued to pour down her face, oozing into her lap and hands. As Lyra collapsed onto her knees, shaking and convulsing from her body's rejection of the potion, she felt her stomach start to roll as she wretched up whatever else there was left onto the cold wooden floor. She sat there, hunched over and grasping her stomach for what felt like an eternity until her vision slowly began to come back, shaky and blurred. Propping herself up with weakly with one hand, she looked at the giant black pool that lay on the floor in front of her. She weakly grasped the side of the bed as she got to her feet, holding her sides as her chest rose and fell raggedly, her lungs heaving for air.

As she reached for a glass of water she had laid on the bedside, she gasped as she watched the pool of liquid rise from the floor and quickly become vaporous, taking the form of a giant skull as it raced towards her, jaws wide open. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out as it collided with her, the world slowly fading around her as she collapsed and hit the floor with a heavy thud.

* * *

Tom stood patiently as he watched Lyra's room from the staircase, he had been ready to give up on his hopes of seeing something suspicious, until a green glow emanating from the bottom of the door caught his eye. His eyes became transfixed as he approached her quarters and stared at the intense flickering emerald light.

" _What are you doing in there?…_ " A strange but familiar smell hit his nose as he stood at the entrance to her door. " _Hellebore...Interesting. One would only use a hellebore plant in a potion for a specific reason…._ "

He put his chin between his thumb and index finger as he rubbed it, deep in thought. " _Hellebore is toxic, to use it safely in a potion, it must brew for a month. Which is almost exactly as long as we've been here…_ "

He walked over towards his bedchamber and went inside without a backward glance at her door. He had seen everything he had needed to try to figure out what Lyra was up to behind closed doors. He paced around the room as he tried to rack his brain thinking of potions that included the deadly ingredient, he had always been gifted at them and had never brewed anything incorrectly.

" _Alihotsy Draught...Bloodroot Potion...Essence of Insanity...Oculus Potion…_ "

He shook his head as he thought of the list he had recollected, if memory served him correctly they didn't match. " _If I can recall, two of those take longer than a month to brew and the other two when finished would not emit a green glow or odor upon brewing or completion._ "

He grew frustrated at the lack of draughts that matched the description of what had unfolded before him and resigned himself to dedicating his day at the library tomorrow in search of the mysterious potion. He knew immediately where to search and what to look for, he had passed Lyra reading fervently in the Restricted Potions Section, holding an old green text. She had closed it and tried to hide it from Tom's view as he passed her, trying to distract him by making pleasantries, but not before he had caught a glimpse of its worn and weathered emerald cover, strange runes littered across its front in gold embellished lettering. He hadn't given the moment a second thought, he had been too preoccupied with his own studies to care about her own, but today as he scoured over books dedicated to his needs and desires, he had found his mind wandering to her again.

She was fascinating in way that was both irritating and intriguing to him at the same time. Most of the people he had come to know or had studied from a distance were painfully predictable and disappointing. Lyra was proving to be neither. She had already displayed her magical prowess to him in the first fifteen minutes of their first meeting and she had continued to display her knowledge and abilities up until the last moment they had seen each other. It was impressive. He had watched her consum books fervently, mirroring his appetite and seemed to prefer her solitude, secluding herself off from the world and only letting it see what she wanted it to. He felt slightly akin to her, as if he had found the only other person in the world who valued and understood knowledge and power as much as he.

He shook his head angrily as his last thought. " _We are nothing alike. She could never hold a candle to what I have done, what I have achieved._ "

Still, he continued to think of her as he lay in his bed. His fingers mindlessly twirling the chain of the locket around themselves as he reflected. After he had read and researched every book on every topic he had been particularly interested in, he found his mind now unpreoccupied, often drifting to her and her whereabout. As to wh, he was unsure. He awoke early in the morning, eager to make his way to the Atheneum where he might catch a glimpse of her roaming amongst the vast halls and sections of the library, biting her lip as she often did when she had been lost in a book. He shook his head once more at the thought. He had prided himself on never falling victim to lust, as so many of people often did and furrowed his brows at the mere thought of it. Was it lust that led him to often think of her?

" _Surely not.._ " his mind whispered softly back to him. " _It's just simple curiosity, when you find out what she is hiding and when you have outgrown your need for her, all thoughts of her will fade back to the hole from which they slithered. Nothing more._ "

He stared up towards the ceiling, satisfied with his last ideation. His thoughts drifted as he fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Tom left the pub the next morning quickly, his thirst to discover what she had been brewing gnawing at his mind. He walked through the Restricted potions section for what felt like an eternity, scanning through the shelves, pulling out book after book with a green cover until he had finally found what he had been looking for. He ran his fingers across the cover and gently opened the book, scouring through forbidden potions, draughts and elixirs.

He grew weary as he turned another page, his eyes reading the effects and descriptions of yet another potion that did not match what he had encountered last night. The book had proved a challenging read, mostly all the potions that resided in the book had called for syrup of hellebore and his research had advanced slowly, half of the draughts were written in ancient runes, something he hadn't studied in years. He understood the texts, but translating them was an intricate process.

" _Damn it._ " He cursed to himself as he put down his quill and leaned his head angrily against his head. The draught he had been translating currently had taken him over an hour to complete and it still didn't fit the necessary characterization he had been looking for. He flipped to the next page, as he read on. Thankfully this one was in a language he didn't have to figure out.

" _The Draught of Expulsion...a remedy for those who bodies are inhabited by malevolent forces._ " As he read the ingredients, he sat upright; his heart starting to beat faster. "Potion must be brewed on months where the days are thirty one. _Part One. Add three dashes of leech juice, two bundles of hemlock that have been picked exactly at midnight and stir clockwise twice. Boil for two days. Part Two. Add two scoops of dried dittany that has been aged five years and four pours of moondew. Stir counter clockwise three times and wave wand over twice. Let simmer for two weeks. Part Three. Add two portions of deadylius and stir for an hour. Boil for a day. Part Four. Ten minutes before drinking add in final ingredients, one root of hellebore and the burnt ashes of a human heart, charred in a small hole dug under a yew tree at midnight. When potion is complete, it will emit a green glow and smoke will pour thickly over the sides. The consistency should be thick, dark and smell heavily of hellebore root, with the taste of decayed flesh._ "

Tom closed the book as he walked back over to the shelf, placing it back gingerly. His thoughts were racing as he thought back to what he had read. " _The burnt ashes of a human heart...it seems we aren't so different as I thought Lyra. What else are you keeping from me?_ "

* * *

 **IMO I think the story is starting to pick up steam but I figured I'd give you guys a couple of little insights as to character development. I just want everyone to know off the bat that Lyra is NOT a hero. I wanted to make that perfectly clear especially in this chapter as her character starts to change from her initial introduction. Burnt ashes of a human heart seems like a pretty illegal potion ingredient to me and she had to get that from somewhere no? ;)**

 **I also hope Tom is still remaining IN character. He is not voldy yet, he still retains some of his humanity. Tom Riddle was inquisitive and competitive and I'm sure if he was faced with a person in the books who was as secretive as he was it would irritate the hell out of him and he would immediately make their business his.**

 **ALSO if anyone is curious as to why I chose the name Lyra, i tried to stick with the Harry Potter theme of dark and tormented characters having astrological and constellation related names. Lyra happens to be a constellation and named after a lyre which represents harmony as well as poetic and musical inspiration. Who knows, maybe she'll inspire Tom to show a side he didn't know he had. Or maybe he's just a psychopath that is way too far gone. Who knows.**

 **Read, Review, and follow please! Would love to have some feedback!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

 _The world around her was hazy, the air was thick and seemed to be made up of smoke and dust. She moaned as she propped herself up from what appeared to be a forest floor, rubbing her eyes as she observed her surroundings, the dry and dead leaves falling from her hands. She had woken up in a small glade, the foliage and shrubbery around her looked dismal and bleak as a thick blanket of fog lay across the ground and above the tops the trees. The woods around her were unnaturally silent as she stood shakily on her feet. Lyra looked downwards as she raised her hands up from her sides. Dirt lay under her fingernails and her hands were covered in dirt, including the rest of her body and nightdress._

 _Lyra pressed a hand to her cheek as she looked around slowly. "Where am I? …."_

 _She felt the warmth of her face on her hand and walked over to a nearby tree, the branches and leaves under her feet snapping and rustling with every step. "Am I dreaming?" As she traced her fingertips along the bark her mouth opened slightly in surprise, it felt rough, scaly and real. "If this is a dream it's a damned good one….Still, everything feels so real…."_

 _Her head jerked around as she heard a faint familiar voice in the distance, a soft whisper dancing through the forest around her._

" _Lyra…"_

" _Who's there?" she said, peering curiously into the fog around her. She could see nothing, yet she knew that voice, one she thought she had forgotten. "Hello?"_

 _She heard a child's voice now, small and anxious. "Don't leave me, I'm afraid."_

 _A tear rolled down Lyra's cheek as she closed her mouth that had been poised to speak, knowing that the voices she heard would not reply. They did not belong to anyone in the present and she knew immediately that she was very much alone in the forest._

" _My darling...never be afraid..I will always be with you."_

" _You can't die. Please, what will I-"_

" _We all die little one. Some of us just get to live a little longer…But you must never fear death Lyra. Promise me something…."_

 _Lyra heard her adolescent self choke back a sob and make a small noise. It echoed through the woods around her._

 _The familiar voice spoke again, this time its voice labored and slow. "Live your life with passion...and do everything in your power to follow your heart... when death comes for you, do not be like others and fill your heart with fear...because if you have lived life true to yourself...death will greet you like a hero coming home from war. Never grovel at its feet."_

" _But I-"_

" _Promise me."_

" _I promise mother."_

" _I'm so proud of you my little one, always remember that…and when I'm finally gone from this world just know you will never be alone...When the thunder roars and the darkness scares you I will always be there inside you heart."_

 _Lyra wiped a tear from under her eye as the voices silently disappeared, leaving her in silence. She wrapped her arms around her as she leaned her back up against the nearest tree and slowly slid down to the ground._

" _Mother..." she thought sadly as she wiped another tear from her cheek. "If only you were here now. I feel so lost..."_

 _She stared ahead absentmindedly, gazing at a nearby bush while watching the fog roll across her feet. As she reached out towards the dirt she sat upon to push her body upwards, she felt an immediate warmth hit her face and an orange glow catch the corner of her eye. The bush, which had just been laying silent and green moments before, had suddenly erupted into a giant blaze, crackling and spewing ash from its core. Lyra remained mesmerized by the spectacle as she slowly watched a snake slither out from below its fiery branches. Her focus turned towards the creature as it slinked towards her, its scales as black as night. It eyed her curiously as its tongue flicked back and forth and stopped as it reached her feet, raising its head strangely. She stared into the ruby eyes of the serpent transfixed while a strange voice filled her head, speaking in a language she had never heard before. Her body tensed slightly as the snake slithered up her leg, inching closer and closer to her face, not knowing what would happen next. The reptile paused as it reached her chest, looking her in the eyes calmly and knowingly._

 _The serpent spoke to her once more, this time in english, its voice soft and quiet. "Wherever you go, I will follow and when you are dead, I shall die."_

 _Her brow furrowed in confusion at the words, but before she could even think about what the snake had meant, it lunged at her suddenly and bit her in the chest. Her vision blurred as she felt its fangs pierce her again, the world around her once more turned black._

* * *

" _What happened…?"_ Lyra groaned as she opened her eyes slowly, her surroundings still blurry and unsteady. Her head was pounding as she tried to lift herself up from the hard wooden floor she was sprawled onto. She winced as a trickle of sunlight peeked through the thick dark curtains she always kept shut against the small iron window and hit her eyes. Suddenly Lyra remembered as to why she was waking up on a cold unfeeling floor and it hit her like a ton of bricks. She sat up against the bed and pulled her knees to her chest, cradling her throbbing head in her hands.

" _How long have I been laying here?"_ She knew it had to at least have been a few hours, due to the rays of light pouring into her room from the window overhead. " _I brewed everything correctly, I followed every direction, I acquired EVERY ingredient….it should have worked…I don't understand…._ "

She shuddered as she thought back to what she had done to attain the last and final potion ingredient once more and held her hand up to her eyes, shaking silently as tears rolled down her face. As the first drop rolled over her chin and fell silently into her lap, she shook her head defiantly and wiped the tears angrily off her cheeks.

" _No._ " Lyra thought angrily to herself as she slowly lifted herself up from the floor and made her way shakily to the mirror. " _You can't start to feel regret. Hesitation and weakness will only prevent you from what you need to do. If people die along the way...then so be it. It's for the greater good._ "

She lifted her head up towards the mirror and felt her eyes welling up in a mixture of emotions at what she saw looking back at her. Her eyes were back to how they had been before the draught, mismatched and unnatural, staring back at Lyra as if to taunt her. She peered closer at her reflection as she noticed two faint burn scars running down either side of her face. The potion had not only proved unsuccessful, it had left her scarred. It was a risk she had been willing to take and she knew the consequences of dealing with forbidden and dark magic.

" _Everything has a price. You knew that Lyra.._ "

Raising her hand slowly to her face, she ran her finger tips softly against her left cheek, tracing the faint scar that now ran from under her eyes to her mouth. She had never considered her beauty to be one of her most important attributes, she had always valued her intelligence and magical abilities far above anything else. Still, the new additions to her face were going to take some getting used to. Lyra shook her head with a strong resolve and pushed the melancholy thoughts from her mind.

" _I won't stop trying to find a solution to this, even if my efforts kill me first. It's still a better alternative than this life…"_

She dressed herself as quickly as she could and reached down towards the floor to where her cloak was laying. Wrapping it around herself, she fastened it tightly against her neck and pulled the hood over her face, hiding it from the world.

" _I need to go back to the Atheneum and look over some more books...if a potion won't do the trick, there must be something else that will…_ "

As she left her room closing the door silently behind her, she paused as she looked towards Tom's room, silent and still next to hers. Moving quickly down the slated steps and through the patrons already assembling in the pub, she pushed her way into the street and thought back to what had transpired before she had drank the potion.

" _Tom.._ " she thought suddenly, a chill running up her spine. He had gone to bed after her, what if he had seen something he shouldn't have?

Lyra tried to calm herself down as she suddenly remembered her strange dream. She had almost forgotten completely about it after she had found out what she had awoken to. She thought back to what the serpent had said as she exited the inn " _Wherever you go, I will follow and when you are dead, I shall die...What does it mean?_ "

She retraced every detail of the dream until she had reached the steps of the Atheneum, pulling her hood down to block her scarred face from prying eyes. Lyra shook her head angrily. " _It was just a dream, a side effect of that useless draught. Don't distract yourself with nonsense. You have work to do._ "

Once more she tried to ignore the strange feeling in her stomach as she descended deep into the basements of the library, in her current situation there was no time for any interferences.

* * *

" _Damn it._ " Lyra said as she closed another book and released it, letting it float back to the top shelf of the bookcase on its own, nestling snuggly back in the gap between two neighboring books where it belonged. " _I've read almost every book I could think of and I still can't find anything close to what I need._ "

A sharp pain hit her in the side of her head as she flexed her neck and rubbed her temples. " _I'm running out of time. Who knows how much longer I have until I lose myself once more…I can't control it any longer._ "

As she opened her eyes, a small dark book caught her attention, the soft candlelight danced across silver gilded letters on its spine. She inched forward and bent down to take a closer look at its title, her expression of curiosity turning hopeful as she reached for it. Lyra leaned against the shelves as she blew dust off the cover of the book, it hadn't been read in a long time. " _Intimo Gratus Sacris Ritibus...that would be latin for Darkest Rites and RItuals..._ " She flipped through the book quickly, trying to see if any of the book was written in english, it wasn't. Books written in Ancient Latin were uncommon, they were either too old to still be available to the public or mostly hidden away in personal collections. Their value was inestimable and due to most people's inability to read an outdated language...completely useless.

Lyra smiled to herself as she opened the book, her fingers gently hovering over its aged, yellow pages. Although she was slightly out of practice with the language, she had been taught to read and write in latin and other languages at a young age; a skill her mother had deemed necessary and important.

" _In order to wield magic properly, you have to learn the language and its origins first."_ Her mother would say as Lyra, only a child at the time, would complain about the amount of reading forced upon her, instead of being able to do things a normal child would have wanted to do. A grin tugged at her mouth as she thought back to her mother nostalgically, her thoughts wandering back to her strange dream. It disappeared when her attention strayed back to the book and the reason as to why she was holding it in her hands.

" _If only you could see me now mother...how proud you would be of me."_ She thought bitterly as she buried herself into the texts.

* * *

Tom started making his way through the library, deep in thought over what he had just discovered. It had taken him hours to read and transcribe the book, but he was certain he had found the potion that Lyra had been brewing. But for what reason?

" _A remedy for those whose bodies are inhabited by malevolent forces…._ " The book had described the nature and purpose of the draught but why had she needed it?

" _She does not seem possessed or under the influence of an outside force in any way…_ " He thought back to books he had read in the past, trying to remember the tell tale symptoms of those who had been forced to surrender their bodies to another. He had been curious after the creation of his first horcrux, what options would be open to him should he ever lose his body. He recalled the symptoms of those who who had been found to be possessed. " _Aggression, sickness, self-mutilation, strange behavior…_ " Lyra had not exhibited any of the following qualities. Strange behavior was difficult to discern when he himself didn't know her very well. True, he had been in her company for little over a month, but their interactions were scattered. She appeared very little after they had first arrived in Salem and preferred her solitude, to which he had been grateful. " _I'm going to have to keep a close eye on her if I'm to learn anything else, next time she disappears into the night, I'll need to be ready._ "

He thoughts were disrupted as he passed an aisle and caught a glimpse of Lyra out of the corner of his eye. Her hood was pulled over her face to mask her identity, but he recognized her cape and the long black locks of hair that spilled out from under it. Tom slipped quietly into the aisle next to hers, watching her hungrily, through the gaps in the wood. He pulled a book at random from the shelf to appear engrossed in while he watched her, he didn't want to raise any suspicion from outside eyes.

He watched as he saw her back stiffen, alert and excited as she held the book closer to her face, her delicate finger trailing the words she so eagerly seemed to devour. Tom felt a small burn in his stomach and a heat in his cheeks as he continued to watch her read. He moved out of sight abruptly as he saw Lyra quickly shut the book and placed it back into the shelf, pausing momentarily as she raised her head, almost as if she had felt him watching her. He watched as she quickly exited the aisle and made her way back towards the lift, whatever Lyra had been searching for so desperately she had found. And now it was his turn.

Tom walked silently around to where she had been standing and searched for the small black book with silver lettering she had been so engrossed in. He found it effortlessly and smiled at the ancient language scrawled across it's cover.

" _Fluent in Ancient Runes and Latin. Impressive. What else about you don't I know?_ " He smirked as he opened the book and held the tip of his wand against it. He himself, of course, could read Latin, but why read a whole book when it was so much easier to see where someone else had left off?

" _Novis_ "

Tom watched as the pages of the book started to flip over faster and faster until they finally stopped abruptly. He held the book up as he read the text she had quickly studied before leaving the Atheneum in a hurry. His eyes remained expressionless as he read the pages he had been so eager to unveil, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he closed the book and placed it nonchalantly amongst the books it belonged with.

A devilish grin appeared across his face as left the Atheneum, he combed his hair back lazily with his fingers as he thought back to what he had just read. He had not assumed to find anything less from a book entitled "Darkest Rituals and Rites", but he had also not anticipated her being capable or willing to perform such a task, especially out of free will. He was very interested to see exactly how far her ambitions would take her.

" _Well then Lyra...show me who you really are._ "

* * *

 **So sorry it took so long to update, its not as long of a chapter as i would have liked BUT I had to cut it off somewhere. Cliffhanger for next one! Things have been rough on the home front here, BUT I finally got through this it. Not an easy one to write mind you LOL. Can't wait to write the next one and keep making progress with the story and more character development.**

 **Please follow, review, like, subscribe etc. I look forward to feedback!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

He hadn't always found the darkness appealing. Growing up in the bustling city of London, he had grown accustomed to the warm glow of the street lights outside his window of the orphanage and the sounds of the city moving around him. In contrast, the wizarding world was anything but alive at night, a blanket of darkness hung over the small little magical towns he had learned called home and he had adapted to a life of thriving beneath its veil. It was under skies full of stars and moonlight that he had come to feel most comfortable in. The blackness of the night offered him opportunities and knowledge that the daylight could not afford to him. Tonight was not any different.

He looked up into the pitch-black curtain that hung above his head and watched as the luminescent stars made warped and misshapen figures in the sky. A cool breeze hit his face as Tom loomed outside the inn in a dark alleyway, calmly waiting for his moment. After discovering what Lyra had been researching in the library, he had made sure to return early to the inn, biding his time until she would take her leave, following her into the night like a shadow. He made sure to leave his room before she had returned, his quarters dark and unoccupied to make it seem as if he were still buried under piles of books in the Athenium. As he waited patiently for her to appear, he thought back to what he had discovered within the old frayed pages of the small forbidden book.

" _Lex_ _Mortis Nox…a ritual for banishing unwanted spirits from within. Under certain circumstances, when a witch or wizard finds themselves possessed by malicious spirits they might be able to rid themselves of the parasite that has latched itself onto their body or soul. Not for the faint of heart-"_

His thoughts were interrupted as the door to the inn opened slowly and a hooded figure stepped out into the night. Leering from the shadows he watched as the figure made its way slowly down the street, long raven hair billowing out from under the hood as she walked amongst the shadows of the moon. Tom stepped out from the blackness of the alleyway and quietly followed behind at a safe distance. Although she was disguised and hid her face from prying eyes, he knew it was Lyra. He could distantly make out her delicate milk white fingers as they grasped the hood of her cloak, holding it tightly around her head to conceal her face. He pursued her as she walked towards a different part of the marketplace he hadn't visited before, crossing underneath a large brick archway which led into a small courtyard filled with tables and chairs. His gaze followed her as she made her way towards a small cobbled path to the right of a small garden that wrapped around another row of closely set buildings. As he continued to follow her down the back street, he looked up at a large clock that lay ahead of them in an open, dimly lit square, set into a large tower made of stone. He lingered behind as she approached the large clock tower, running her hands over the stone as if she was looking for something.

Tom narrowed his eyes and grasped the wall beside him leaning forward to see what she was looking for. He heard her mutter quietly to herself, and take a step back, her figure waiting patiently at the foot of the tower, the full moon casting her shadow across the square. A few seconds had passed before he heard a small quiet rumbling, as if stones were stacking themselves slowly onto one another and watched as the wall in front of Lyra had reassembled itself into a small door. He pressed himself closer to the wall, as he watched her open the door and bowing her head down to enter through its small archway, his breathing short and anxious, eager to follow. He had almost stepped out from the shadows, when he saw her quickly turn around and look towards the dimly lit, cobbled pathway in which he still hid, her eyes narrowing slightly, as she began to take a step towards where he lay hidden.

Had she heard him?

He held his breath as he felt her eyes fall on him, as if she knew he was there, lying in the dark watching her like an animal stalking his prey; his chest started to pound anxiously.

" _Turn around…_ " He thought to himself, " _Turn back around Lyra…_ "

He was so hungry to learn about what she did under the veil of night, when everyone else was asleep and what she had planned to accomplish with the dark spell she had been studying. He had never shied away from the possibilities and endless opportunities dark magic had tried to offer him, but he had also never met anyone else with the proper ambition and skill to perform such magic as himself and was intrigued. This experience could not be ruined for him. Quickly looking back over towards Lyra, he let out a slow breath of relief as she finally turned around and entered through the doorway, closing it behind her.

He walked over to the stone tower slowly, pacing himself so that way enough distance could be placed between them. Looking at the smooth stone surface before him he lifted his fingers and traced them around a small gilded symbol that he recognized.

" _This is the same symbol that was on the tree in the cemetery, that we had passed through to enter Chadwick Square. No doubt this will lead back into muggle Salem…_ " He paused as he raised his wand and aimed it at the rune, anticipation burning in his stomach. He whispered gently as he turned his wand like a key.

"Velim Vestibulum."

Tom watched as the stone once more started to split and crack and rumble; the small door appearing in front of him as the brass knob gleamed in the moonlight, waiting for his hand to grasp it. He quickly turned the door knob and entered the hallway, the dimly lit lamps still ablaze from Lyra's presence, just minutes beforehand. Unlike the other passage they had used to enter Chadwick square, this one was more polished and finished, the floors, ceilings and walls were all made from stone, making the walk considerably less messy. Tom fixed his coat jacket as he took in his surroundings, his eyes rested on another door at the far end of the tunnel as he made his way towards it.

* * *

Tom approached the small door at the opposite of the tunnel, pushing it open softly, feeling the cool night air touch his face. As he stepped out once more into the night he glanced around, taking in his surroundings and looking for a glimpse he might catch of Lyra. He turned his head behind him and saw nothing but the woods behind him, in addition to the large statue he had just appeared though, the door vanishing quickly behind him, as if it had never existed. A row of hazy street lights scattered amongst a cobbled road lay before him, illuminating rows of muggles businesses and houses, quiet and still in the night. He glanced around quickly, there was no sign of Lyra.

" _No matter."_ He had anticipated this.

He grabbed his wand slowly raising it up to his lips and softly muttered "Appare Vestigium". Blowing gently on his wand he watched as golden dust sprung from the tip and illuminated the ground before him. He knelt down to the ground and placed his wand in a golden circle on the ground, smirking, as a vision of Lyras figure appeared and started to walk down the street. Grabbing his wand quickly he followed the apparition down the cobblestone until it had stopped and vanished in front of a muggle pub. As he glanced carefully through the large tinted windows to see if he could get a better look, Tom couldn't be sure if the yellow tint they held were intentional or because of the heavy tobacco grease that lay thick upon them. He watched as a small droplet of condensation trickled down the glass, the lights inside flickering and reflecting off its surface, illuminating the many shadows and figures within.

Tom wrinkled his nose as he opened the door, the smell of cigar smoke and spirits were an assault on his senses, he glanced around quickly until he saw Lyra. He traced her back with his eyes, her long raven locks splayed out over her shoulder; there was no mistaking her. Tom kept his eyes on her as he made his way back to the farthest corner of the bar, hidden away from the stench of unbathed muggles and prying eyes. As he sat down he clutched his wand in his pocket, and whispered a charm of invisibility, enabling him to observe Lyra and her surroundings without being discovered. He felt a small tug and a pull and watched as the spell cast a silvery blanket around him, he could no longer be seen or heard.

Tom tapped his fingertips on the surface of the wooden bar table as he rubbed his brow, he felt as if he had been watching her for hours, the minutes dragged by so slowly, and yet she had done nothing but sit at the bar, offering the bartender a kindly smile and raising her hand when her glass was empty, asking for it to be refilled.

" _What is she waiting for? Make your move Lyra. Show me that you have what it takes; to do the things no one else would even dare."_

Tom lazily watched her for another half hour as he snorted to himself. It appeared to him Lyra had reservations on performing the dark ritual he had found her so engrossed in. Maybe she didn't have the willpower and the determination he had briefly respected her for. He tapped his finger on the table once more impatiently. This was turning into a waste of time.

Tom growled in frustration as he went to get up from the table until something caught his eye. He noticed as a man sat down next to Lyra, boisterous and loud and who had had clearly too many drinks. He watched in disgust as the man turned to Lyra, placing a fat wrinkled hand on her shoulder, while he whispered into her ear. He watched in disgust as Lyra turned around and laughed at the man, smiling and encouraging the conversation. Her legs parted and crossed over themselves once more; She seemed to be entertaining the repulsive muggle's advances. Tom wrinkled his nose in revulsion. Had a muggle even dare place a finger on him, even in the most innocent of situations it would be the last thing they would ever remember.

" _Filth."_ He thought to himself as he tried to lean his body closer in towards the table, but it was no use, he could hear nothing. Tom watched as Lyra once more beckoned the bartender over, ordering another round of drinks for them as she continued to smile and talk with the man. He cursed himself for settling on a corner so far away, if only he had been closer...He would have been able to hear what they had been talking about.

As the man continued to laugh and touch Lyra provocatively, Tom watched as Lyra edged her hand over to her purse, knocking over it contents onto the floor. The man laughed and finally released his fat fingers from Lyras leg, being over to pick up her belongings off the floor. He smirked as he watched her pull a vial out of her sleeve, pouring its contents into the man's drink. The muggle stumbled backwards as he got up from the floor, pushing her purse back into her arms as he took another swig from his glass, not even noticing Lyra had poured something into it.

" _Clever.._ " thought Tom as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. " _Perhaps she does have it in her…_ "

The corners of Toms mouth twitched upwards as he watched Lyra get up from her seat and place a few dollars on the counter, her glass still untouched as she rubbed the man's arm beckoning him to follow her. He watched as they walked over towards the door and exited the bar, the drunkard no doubt, thinking that this was his lucky night. Tom watched as the man got up to follow Lyra, his cheeks red and ruddy, as he placed his hat upon his round greasy head.

Tom sat up from the table, grinning to himself as he followed them out the door at a safe distance. He knew his night was about to get more interesting

* * *

Tom had followed them across town and had now found himself staring at another pathway into the woods. As he stepped onto the dirt path that led further and further into the trees he grasped his wand and muttered a quick incantation.

"Quietus" He murmured gently at his feet and the ground, he didn't want to alert Lyra to his presence by the snapping of twigs and brush under his feet.

He could hear Lyra talking to the man despite their distance, her voice travelling with the wind. He smiled as he walked the woods behind them, the foliage thick and dense the further they went, it reminded him of Albania. He had found himself quite fond of the Albanian mountainside, even after he had found Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. The woods were peaceful and solitary, full and lush; far away from prying eyes and the bustle of the city, its inhabitants unassuming and solitary. The forests were filled with old magic, he could feel it talking to him-flowing through him, as he took sanctuary inside it's womb. These woods felt eerily similar to him. They hid secrets and danger, he could feel the magic dripping from his fingertips as he walked through them.

"Where are we going? It's dark as hell in these woods, don't you think we've gone far enough?"

Tom snapped back from his thoughts as he heard the muggle man speak. His words were still slurred, but he had begun to question why Lyra had taken him so far into the forest. He heard Lyra speak, her voice still warm and inviting.

"Just a little further, it'll be worth it, you'll see. It's the most beautiful spot in these woods."

Tom watched as she grasped the muggles hand gently while smiling, coaxing him along, his drunk and fat body starting to become sluggish, the night of hard drinking and whatever Lyra had given him had started to take their toll on his body. They trudged on for a moment until he heard Lyra speak once more, her voice still honeyed and sweet.

"Look, right there. How magnificent it is. You can see the moon as well, right over the top."

She had led the man to clearing which within lay a large black oak, its trunk gnarled and massive. It looked as if it had been there for centuries. Its branches were barren and rotted, the tips bent and furled, the moonlight dancing along their surface making them appear skeletal and malevolent. Tom stepped behind a thicket as he watched Lyra and the muggle walk up to the tree, pushing the leaves aside so he could see them without his view obstructed.

Lyra, her back turned to the man, lifted up her hand and rubbed it against the bark of the tree, transfixed. The man, though still drunk, was visibly unsettled by their surroundings. He looked at Lyra with apprehensive eyes as he started to take a step backwards.

"It's getting late." he heard the man say as he continued to back away from Lyra, realizing that leaving the bar with her might have been a mistake. "I think I'm gonna go, I'm not feeling too great."

There was a moment's pause before Lyra spoke once more, this time her voice was cold and empty. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

Tom watched as she pulled her wand out and turned around to face the man, pointing it directly at him.

"Stupefy!"

He watched as the man tried to scream, but before he could make a noise all he saw was a flash of red light and the man had fallen where he stood. Tom watched as Lyra walked over to the unconscious man and flicked her wand, his body lifting up slowly into the air and resting gently down by the base of the ancient tree.

* * *

Lyra stared at the man for a moment, knowing what she had to do, and opened her purse with shaking hands. She put her wand back into her pocket as she fumbled around inside the bag and pulled out a cup first and then a long dagger. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her breath short and ragged. She closed her eyes as she contemplated her next move.

" _Steady yourself Lyra. There's no turning back now. Make this quick and easy...sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Besides, you know what kind of man this is. You knew it when you picked him, you're doing the world a service._ "

She had in fact sat at the bar all night, waiting for the perfect person to fall into her lap. She had examined every No-Maj in the bar, most were guilty of smaller crimes, petty theft, adultery, or maybe spent a little too much time at the bar, none who fit her ideal of who she should bring with her into the woods. None deserved that fate. All except this man laying on the dirt in front of her, which for all intensive purposes, was filthier than the ground he laid on. She had sifted through his past memories like a book using legilimency, while they spoke at the bar, only entertaining his filthy hands on her as a way to achieve her means, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat as he continued to lay his hands on her legs. She shuddered angrily, thinking of all the pain he had inflicted on his victims, the hurt that he had spread like wildfire to men and women alike, not only using his fists and words to mutilate them, but his body as well. Her eyes opened quickly, her mind set on the task before her.

The dagger gleamed as she raised it up towards the tree, the moonlight dancing across its gilded blade. She stared at it momentarily as she recalled what the book had said:

"The deed may not be done with wand or spell, neither will show a true desire for gratification. A blade is best suited for the ritual, showing that the witch or wizard is indeed dedicated and worthy of purification."

Closing her eyes she started reciting the words she had memorized off the pages of the old book.

"Quia Sanguis Sanguinem Animam Pro Anima, Dimittis Me Ab Operibus." She opened her eyes as she placed the blade on her palm and sliced through it quickly, wincing as she curled her hand into a fist, crimson leaking from in between her fingers. She walked slowly over to the tree and held her hand over its roots, watching as the droplets of blood fell onto the black and twisted bark and then trickle slowly down into the soil. She then walked over to the unconscious muggle, her gait determined and unwavering as she knelt down and held the dagger to his neck, reciting the final words of the spell. She breathed in deeply as she looked before her into the darkness ahead, distant and detached from what her body was about to do. She dragged her hand quickly across his neck and after a few moments, she felt his blood leak down her hands, warm and thick.

Steadying herself she grasped the cup with trembling, blood stained hands and held it up to his neck. As his blood spilled into the receptacle, she felt his body go limp; the twitching and spasms of his body quelled. She removed the cup, half full, and stood up, facing the tree once more as she raised her wand up with one hand, the other pouring a few drops of the muggles blood onto the roots as well.

"Caeruleum Incendio!" She yelled as the tree erupted into a haze of blue fire. Its flames licked and danced along the branches, trunk and roots, but did not seem to burn anything in its vicinity. She walked over cautiously and slowly reached towards the blue fire, her fingertips shaking as they touched the flame. She thought she would have felt heat or would have been burned, but instead the fire was cold, like holding snow without a glove. Lyra reached into the cerulean flame once more and grabbed at the bark, ripping at it with her nails and fingers desperately. She felt the bark give way and crumble, releasing an oozing liquid from underneath where it lay. Raising the cup up to the tree, she tilted it towards the plasma like substance, filling the other half of the chalice. It was as red and thick as the blood that was splattered across her hands.

Everything was just as the book had described.

* * *

 **So sorry for the hiatus in the story, A lot has happened in the past year and for awhile I lost a little bit of inspiration. I plan on definitely trying to dedicate at least 1 or two nights writing a week so I can finally get the ball rolling a little more. Review or follow or add this story to your favorites if you enjoy it, it definitely promotes motivation! :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

Tom sat hidden behind the brush that encircled the large clearing and let out the breath he felt he had been holding in his chest for hours, soft and calm. Blue flames reflected in his dark brown eyes as he lay still, hungrily watching Lyra as she performed the dark ritual. For him it was extraordinary to behold, his heart had raced with anticipation as she had ended the wretched muggles life. As of yet, nothing had happened yet to tell him if the spell had worked or not, but he was impressed with what he had seen so far. He himself, had of course no use for the knowledge of such a spell, but to see someone else show an interest and inclination towards the dark arts was indeed fascinating. He had tried to encourage many of his...colleagues, for lack of better words, to use the dark arts to their advantage, but it had taken a while for them to even cast the most menial curses successfully.

" _You have to mean it with every bone in your body."_ He remembered hissing at his inner circle at school, as he performed many unspeakable curses and hexes on them. It was these acts of exhibition that made them cower like rats in his presence and kiss his feet like a god while he walked. They learned eventually, as all good students do, but to have a real talent and understanding for dark magic, that was something that could not be taught. Diligence, determination and an insatiable appetite for knowledge were either qualities you possessed, or you didn't.

He focused once more on Lyra as she held the bloody chalice in her hands. The red beads of blood gleaming on her skin in the moonlight like dew on fresh grass. He slowly parted his lips as he took another breath in, waiting on what would happen next.

* * *

Lyras hands grasped at the cup desperately as she felt her fingers slipping against the glass, slick and wet with blood and whatever putrid liquid the tree had produced. She stood once more, facing the giant black oak which was still covered in a blue blaze. Looking upwards towards the pale moon which hung in the sky, mute and mystic, she closed her eyes and raised the cup up to it . Lyra felt the night breeze against her face, cold and frigid, the goose flesh rising up on her arms in response. Her body's reaction to the night air roused her; she could feel a fire rising in her belly, giving her the resolve she needed to continue. Her eyes opened suddenly and she could feel her lips part, ready for what was to come next.

Lyra lowered the chalice to her lips as tilted her head back, forcing the malodorous liquid down her throat, her heart beating in anticipation. She gagged and coughed, covering her mouth in fear her stomach would reject what she had just done. The mixture had tasted as foul as she could have imagined, the co mingling of iron, sulfur and the taste of rotten flesh lingered on her tongue like the blood on her hands. She felt a trickle roll down her chin as she wiped the residue away with her thumb, her eyes hollow as she looked at the residue absentmindedly, rubbing it between her fingers. Unfazed, she felt her focus change direction and stared straight into the dark distance ahead, the rite was almost complete. Closing her eyes, she began to chant the rest of the spell, that would hopefully change her misfortune.

" Et luna, hoc sanguine, liberabo animam meam!"

* * *

Tom was transfixed on the scene in front of him, his eyes entranced; as soon as Lyra had spoken the last words of the ritual, the small clearing was illuminated in an explosion of light that had suddenly erupted from the black oak tree. The fire had gone out, if only for a few seconds, leaving billowing clouds of black smoke that hung heavily in the air, the clearing now cast under a veil of darkness that eventually swallowed up the whole sky, moon and all.

He reached into his pocket slowly, his fingers brushing up against his wand as he tried to peer through the blanket of darkness. Suddenly, in the middle of the smoke and fog, a bright blue light caught his eye as the thick cloud of air dissipated, revealing Lyra covered in the dancing blue flames. He watched as she smiled and laughed, holding her palms out in front of her as she turned around. He listened as she spoke to herself, her voice sounding both relieved and anxious at the same time.

"It worked…." She said as she let out a small delighted laugh.

Tom watched as she ran her hands through her hair, her chest rising and falling with every breath as she smiled once more, delighted with what she had supposedly accomplished. As to what she had achieved, or rather expelled from her body, it was unclear to him. But he was no longer interested in what secret she had been hiding, for now it was inconsequential; it was finished and whatever had been was gone. He rubbed his face as he turned away slowly, ready to walk a safe distance away before he apparated back to the inn; he didn't want to alert her to his presence.

" _Well Lyra, I never did get to find out what you were hiding from me, but I've seen more than enough to know that you could provide useful to me after all._ "

He smirked to himself as he thought about everything he had seen tonight. Not only had he seen the power and capabilities she had possessed, as well as the measures she would take to get what she wanted, but he had also seen something that would allow him leverage over her, if he ever came to need it. He cared not that she had murdered a muggle, but he knew that the wizarding community would probably be less than pleased if they knew that one of their own was actively murdering for personal gain, all of course which could be revealed in a letter from an anonymous source. He grinned once more as he thought how he had perfected the art of manipulation. It was a skill he had learned early on in life, to pretend to befriend and understand, to watch when nobody else was looking and to use others weaknesses and vulnerabilities against them. A disreputable game to others, too weak and foolish to not use another's shortcomings to work in favor of their own fortune, but a past time that had alway been very beneficial to him and would continue to be. He was sure Lyra would be more than willing to compromise with him in order to prevent others from knowing what she had done.

He stopped in his tracks as he heard a scream come from back in the clearing. He turned around as he watched Lyra fall to the forest floor, her body visibly writhing in pain.

Something had gone wrong.

* * *

Lyra screamed once more as she felt her insides start to burn and tremble, the bile rising up in her throat, acidic and sour. She felt the ground spin as her fingers dug into the earth, the dirt and grass packed underneath her fingernails.

"What's happ-en-ing-" she stuttered as fresh tears sprang to her eyes, her stomach rolling and turning in pain.

Lyra felt the nausea as it clawed at her throat, she tried to force down the bile, but it was too late. The congealed contents of her stomach erupted suddenly, black, thick and tar like; the taste unlike anything she had ever experienced before and worse than what she had consumed only moments before. She heaved again and once more the grass laid thick with what her stomach had expelled. After she was done, she weakly pushed herself away from where she had become sick and wiped the corners of her mouth with her sleeve.

" _I don't understand...I followed all the instructions, I did everything that it had asked of me down to the last detail. Why didn't it work?_ "

She sat on the ground for a few moments as she recalled everything she had done, step by step, thinking back to what the book had said. She had made no errors that she could think of, yet she remained the same. For a brief moment after she had completed the act, she had felt normal, like she was her old self again; free from how weak she was gradually becoming, free from the feeling that her body was no longer her own and finally rid of the perpetual dread that lay in her stomach when she would frequently wake with no recollection of the night before. It was a cruel joke.

She clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging into her palms as she screamed and beat her fists into the ground in frustration.

" _I mustn't give up._ " she thought to herself as she weakly got to her feet. " _Maybe Salem wasn't the right place to look for answers, maybe the solution to my problem lies elsewhere. There's bound to be something that works. I just need to find it…_ "

Lyra tried to steady herself as she suddenly lost her balance, her head was still spinning from the after effects of the ritual _._

" _...and quick. I'm growing weaker and all of these experimental spells are starting to take their toll as well. I can't continue on like this.._ "

She grabbed her wand as she slowly made her way over to the where the dead no-maj's body lay, looking at what she had done. Even though the spell hadn't worked, she still held no feelings of regret. He deserved his fate. Her eyes glanced over his body once more as she wrinkled her nose and held her wand up.

"Evanesco!"

The man's body vanished, as did all signs of her presence and everything that had taken place there that night. Satisfied with how everything looked around her, Lyra placed her wand back into her pocket as she turned to leave the clearing.

" _It's late. I should be getting back to the inn soon. I want an early start in the morning to figure out where to go next...and at some point I'll have to tell Tom to tell him we're leaving..._ "

She started to walk, slowly, as she made sure all her footsteps were solid and well placed; her balance was still wavering and she hadn't the strength quite yet to disapparate from the forest. The ritual and what had ensued afterwards had worn on her, she needed a few moments to gather her strength before she could even bear the thought of apparition, which had always made her feel slightly queasy. Her thoughts strayed once more to Tom, despite her efforts to try to push him out of her mind.

" _I need to be careful around him...last time I had run into him, I felt almost as if he had waited up on purpose to see when I would be back..._ "

She shook her head as she tried to put that thought out of her mind. Tom had given her no reason thus far to even think that he was even remotely interested in the daily habits and routines of her life. Aside from their brief encounter the other night, every time she had even seen him, he was always buried under a pile of books, writing and taking notes down furiously with his quill and paper, lost in studies.

" _You're just being paranoid Lyra._ "

That was something she had grown accustomed to in the past two years. Her condition had forced her to gradually remove herself from society, becoming a ghost of the person she used to be. She moved around frequently to avoid suspicion and kept no company lest her secret get out. At first the task had been easy, she was able to control her episodes and only lost herself on a few occasions, but now, things were different. The incidents were now unpredictable, she no longer had symptoms for hours in which she knew she would lose herself, she now only had moments, minutes, before the world went black.

She shook her head in frustration as she thought back to everything that she had been forced to abandon.

" _Not that it was much._ " she thought bitterly.

She had never had many friends, her mother's career had moved them around so much that instead of finding solace and companionship with other people, she had found it in books. She remembered feeling isolated and lonely even at school in Ilvermorny, spending most of her free hours and time in the library, studying and reading subjects that no one else seemed to care about. A few people had tried to befriend her, mostly boys, but in the end she had deduced they were only being friendly because of her physical appearance, not because of a genuine interest in her or friendship.

Her job she had been forced to forfeit, on account of her inability to excuse her gradually increasing absences and loss of desire to perform. She had worked so hard to become the best, to follow in her mother's footsteps, but in the end it had all been for naught. It was perhaps this loss of purpose in her life that made her feel sorrowful.

Lyra rubbed her eyes as she leaned against a nearby tree, tired and irritable that she was rehashing old memories and feelings she wished would just disappear. Self pity had always been somewhat of a loathsome quality to possess in her opinion. As she opened her eyes she became alert as her vision began to blur, a familiar prickling sensation rose up in her spine, making the hair on the back of her neck begin to stiffen.

" _Not now!_ _Not tonight, please! "_ She thought to herself panicking as she pressed her back up to the tree. " _Haven't I been through enough tonight…_ "

Tears started to form in her eyes as a blinding pain seared through her head, rendering her powerless. She clung onto the tree as the forest began to fade, the world fading to black once more around her.

* * *

Tom had watched her intently as she writhed in pain on the forest floor, he had watched as she expelled the contents of her stomach on the the dirt and grass and as she cleaned up after everything that had happened had finally come to an end. He grimaced at the scene, it reminded him of when he had created his first horcux. Forbidden spells that tampered with the body's natural state usually were accompanied with tremendous amounts of physical pain to the witch or wizard performing them, whether they worked or not. He remembered the searing pain he had felt as part of his soul was ripped from his being, how it had felt like a hot knife on flesh. How his stomach had emptied its contents all over the stone floor in front of him as he lay there in agony and how weak and ravaged his body had felt after. He was not envious of her pain.

He followed behind her quietly, as he watched her wander back in the direction towards where they had come from. Tonight's events had clearly weakened her and he watched as she placed one unbalanced foot in front of another, clearly lost in her thoughts, until deciding to rest at a nearby tree. He wasn't sure as to why he was still following her, but his instincts were telling him that her night was far from over.

Standing behind a large tree he observed her as she dipped her head towards her chest; her eyebrows furrowed in thought. He watched as she brought a delicate milk white hand up to her eyes, rubbing them in exhaustion as each of her shoulders curled in towards her chest in disappointment. Her face looked ethereal in the moonlight as its light fell onto her soft features, her expression now calm and composed until suddenly a look of dread and panic washed over her features. Tom's hand went into his pocket, grasping his wand as he turned his attention towards her once more, making sure he was prepared should anything attempt to threaten him.

Lyra was bent over, once more in torturous pain as she cradled her head in her hands, making pitiful sounds as he could hear the sound of bones cracking and branches snapping beneath her. He hid behind the tree quickly as the noises had abruptly stopped, the only sound he could hear was the small exhale of his own breath.

" _Is she gone?.._ " he thought to himself, as he struggled to listen for a footstep or a breath to indicate he was not alone.

A minute had passed, its passing feeling more like an hour to him until he finally heard movement from where she had been. He moved his head from behind the pine tree to observe what had just transpired before him and realized that Lyra was no longer before him, but something else entirely different.

" _So this is what you've been hiding from me._ " He thought.

His eyes widened as he watched the creature before him, feminine and somewhat humanesque in form, but with skin like molten lava, wrinkled and as dry as a bone. Its hair was as white as snow, but it was the eyes that held his attention; black diamond like eyes that resembled the pits of hell that gleamed over a nose, decaying and deformed like a rotting apple. It opened its jaw, as Tom could see teeth as black as coal, broken and decomposing as if she had laid in the earth for decades before waking.

As Tom sat still behind the tree he listened as the humanoid form breathed heavily, taking a step towards his direction. Unsure of whether the creature knew he was there or not, he decided he had seen enough for one night and pulled his wand out. Aiming it at a thicket off in the distance, he waved his wand. He watched as the leaves in the thicket started to shake and move back and forth, providing enough noise and hopefully enough of a distraction for him to escape.

The grotesque form before him, hearing the wind moving through the thicket, stepped away from where he lay hidden, giving Tom the opportunity he needed to escape.

CRACK!

* * *

Tom apparated into the dark alleyway on the side of the inn, his heart still racing as he rubbed his eyes. His feet echoed quietly off the cobbled stone pavement as he made his way towards the door. As he entered the dimly lit inn, his mind was raced as he made it up the creaky wooden stairs, passing Lyra's room, pausing momentarily until he unlocked the door that led into his small room. He took his jacket off as he combed his hands through his hair, pushing back the black locks of hair that had fallen into his face. In all his years at Hogwarts exploring the forbidden forest and his travels through Europe and Albania he had never encountered anything quite like this. He had read about possessions and poltergeists inhabiting others bodies for multiple reasons, but he had never before read about or encountered a possession in which the hosts body had become altered or completely changed. This was something he was unfamiliar with.

" _How is that even possible?_ " He thought as he grabbed the small basin by his bed.

"Aguamenti"

He watched as his wand produced a small stream of water, filling the porcelain basin. He shook his wand gently to stop the stream of water and cupped his hands into it as he bent down to splash his face. He gripped the sides of his nightstand as he let the water drip off his face, listening to it the wooden table as he sat there in silence mulling over his thoughts.

" _I need to go back to the Athenium tomorrow. There's bound to be an answer somewhere that would explain all of this...and I'm going to find it._ "

* * *

 **PHEW. That took me a week to write and rewrite and try to figure out all the little details and where I wanted this all to go. I'm trying to give a little bit of insight into Lyras backstory which I don't want to give too much away of right away, because there will be more of that to come. Also there will be plenty more dialogue in upcoming chapters between the two of them, so don't worry-this story is going to be LONG! Also, this chapter is a little nod to Philosophers Stone, where Voldemort had possessed Quirrell in a HALF physical manifestation. I mean he had to get the idea from somewhere right? I think this is something Voldy would be super interested and perplexed about at the same time. Hope ya'll enjoyed! New Chapter hopefully in the next week or so, and as always please review, follow and favorite! All feedback is appreciated 3**


	13. Chapter 13

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

 _The stench of dried blood filled the air, as the bodies lay on the floor looking like broken mannequins. Their chests had been ripped open, their ribs cracked and mangled. One corpse had slid from the large queen sized bed to the right of the door and lay staring up at the ceiling, the mouth open as if it were still screaming, the eyes as dead and hollow as a dolls. Mutilated and torn, the severed vessels stuck up like corrugated pipes through the open chest cavity. The second body was propped up against the opposite wall like a rag doll, his head drooped forward over the mounds of flesh on his chest that lay ravaged._

 _The moon shone in through the open window, casting a beam of silver light into the room as the curtains parted, blowing wildly back and forth with the wind. A flicker of the pale moonlight shone briefly on another body that lay in the corner of the room, its figure huddled under a thick black cloak. From underneath the thick fabric its frame slowly rose and fell, as it let out a piteous noise; it's breathing shallow and ragged. Another groan, this time louder, accompanied the fragmented series of breathing patterns as the figure stirred, slowly sitting up from underneath the cloak._

* * *

Lyra moaned as her eyes fluttered open, her breath feeling short and uneven as she pulled her knees into her chest. Her head was throbbing, she felt as if someone had taken a knife to her skull. She cradled her head between her hands as she squeezed her eyes shut, willing the pain to go away. She felt detached from the world and her body, all she could concentrate on was the blinding pain that sprung from her head. She felt the night breeze from underneath her cloak, the small drafts of air licking at her exposed legs. The acrid smell of blood hit her nose as she weakly rose to get up, her fear of what she would find distracting her from the piercing pain in her skull.

" _Merlin, help me…_ " she thought as she reached her hands up to remove the cloak from over her face. She knew what she would find when she uncovered her eyes, it was always the same.

She looked around the room weakly as she surveyed the damage she had wrought. Her eyes glanced over one body as they slowly moved over towards the next. Both had been ripped apart, the reason why was the same. She moved her fingers slowly over the shag carpeting to her right, bracing herself to get up, when she felt something wet and spongy beside her. As Lyra looked down, she felt her stomach tighten and pulled her hand back quickly in disgust. It was a human heart, dismembered, mutilated and half consumed.

" _It's more than one this time. Whatever is taking control of me is getting worse. How long do I have before I can't even cover up what I've done?_ "

She got up slowly and reached for her wand, her delicate fingers running absentmindedly over it as she took one last look at the grisly scene before her. She felt a pang of guilt in her stomach as she raised her wand up and waved it quickly, watching as the bodies suddenly disappeared and the room cleaned itself up. It always felt wrong, treating the dead as if they were disposable, like discarded rubbish. But she had no choice. Nothing could be left behind to give any clue as to what had happened, no one must know. As for the victims families, if they had any, they would have to buy headstones for empty graves.

" _I used to feel something once…_ " she thought as she rubbed her face, her eyes puffy and sore from the series of events that had led her to the cold empty bedroom. " _I used to feel guilt and sorrow...and I was repulsed of the things I had done. And now...Now I feel nothing. Is this how I'll be forced to live my life from now on? This shell of a person?_ "

A flicker of light caught her eye as the moonlight reflected off a long mirror hanging from the wall on the other side of the room. Lyra gazed at her reflection, as she walked closer staring at her blood stained clothing and skin. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, wondering what she hated more, the evil acts she performed unwillingly or the cruel things she had done to regain her independence?

"Monster..." she whispered as she pulled the cloak tightly around herself and raised the hood up over her head. Grasping her wand, she hastily flicked her wrist and disapparated from the room with a loud - "CRACK!"

* * *

Tom sat in silence as he closed yet another book he had been reading and reached for another one from the large stack that lay in front of him. He had left the inn at the first light of day in order to find any type of reasoning behind what he had seen last night. Much to his frustration, his task had been largely unsuccessful.

" _The creature I saw was neither werewolf, nor spirit, but a physical manifestation of something else entirely...how is something like that possible? I've never read anything that even remotely fits the description of what that was last night..._ "

He picked up a large dusty book entitled "Possessions, Poltergeists and Other Unnatural Phenomena" and opened up the page to the beginning as he picked up his quill and began to write furiously as he read.

 _ **Body Hopping**_

 _Body hopping is an ancient dark practice in which spirits of the deceased may transfer themselves quickly from one physical body to another, with little or no resistance from the host. There are usually very few conditions on what dictates how the spirit may move onto a new body without remaining stuck in the host physical state permanently. With few or little cases known to date, this remains an extremely difficult task to accomplish, but research shows that this would have significant trauma on the host, resulting in weakness, fatigue or in most cases death. Research is also limited and unreliable from most sources because the host's body will likely not change in physical appearance, but only psychologically, therefore it is hard to tell if a subject is indeed possessed, or in fact just mentally unstable._

Tom paused as he dipped his quill in the inkwell and furiously drew a line underneath what he had just written down, starting a fresh section on the paper. While an intriguing topic, the subject matter did not fit with what he was looking for. He flipped through the next couple pages as his eyes scanned through the different cases, studies and examples of possessions until they landed on a particular title that caught his eye.

 **Physical Possession and Manifestation of a Physical Body through Chosen Objects**

 _Although seemingly improbable in nature, the idea that one may preserve his or her likeness in an object with the sole intention of rebirth has existed for many years. Scholars have argued that although no one has successfully attempted this feat, the idea that one may rebuild their own likeness by parasitically draining their host through a cursed or dark object may in be achievable. One the host has adequately supplied the imprint of the objects owner with enough of their own strength and life, their likeness will come to fruition._

Tom rubbed his lip softly with his index finger as he finished transcribing what he had just read to paper.

" _Interesting….This isn't quite what I'm looking for at the moment either, but this could prove to be quite useful in the future._ "

He smirked as he folded up the parchment and placed it in his pocket, he had always been proficient at creating new spells and curses for himself to use, it was just a matter of finding the correct words to string together.

He tucked the stray strands of black hair that fell into his face as he picked up the book once more, flicking his wand impatiently as the pages turned themselves. His thoughts were interrupted suddenly by a familiar voice.

"I hope your studies are proving to be much more fruitful than my own."

Tom lowered the book as his eyes rose to meet hers. He was irritated by how she had caught him off guard and while he was in the middle of reading books that pertained to her affliction. He watched as she took a seat at the small wooden table opposite him in the dimly lit corner of the Athenaeum, the candlelight above them danced across her face as she lowered the hood of her cloak.

"They've been extremely fruitful." he said as he placed the book face down in front of him, forcing a smile upon his face as he tapped his quill on the bare parchment in front of him. "I'm sorry to hear you've not had the same experience."

He watched her face display an array of emotions, her brows furrowed in frustration before they relaxed and a nonchalant expression had taken over. He stared into her blue and amber eyes before she broke eye contact and rubbed the dust off one of the books with her finger slowly.

"No matter. I'm sure my efforts will find success elsewhere."

"No doubt, I'm sure. Books only hold information that can be half useful." Tom said softly, his fingers softly playing with his wand as he continued to stare at her.

"How so?" Lyra said, staring at him with a half amused expression on her face, trying to ignore Toms lingering gaze.

"Well, as I see it, books can only provide half of a knowledge, they introduce you to a method and a rudimentary ability on how to perform and understand a spell or a concept. What they don't provide you with is experience or the necessary skill it takes to perform them."

Lyra laughed. "Very clever. I never thought to think of it like that. I suppose by that logic you're right."

Tom's gaze traveled across her face, his eyes resting on the faint burn marks that ran from under her eyes that had not been there when they had first met.

" _Dark magic always leaves traces behind…_ " he thought to himself as he thought about his own appearance and how it had changed after he had started to make his horcruxes.

Lyra's cheeks turned red as she realized what had caught his attention and slowly raised the hood of her cloak to mask her face. She slowly stood up from the table as she spoke "Sorry for the intrusion, but the reason why I came was to find you and tell you tonight will be the last night we spend in Salem. I think it's time we move on to somewhere else."

Tom raised an eyebrow as he looked lazily back at the books.

"As you wish. Where we are going next?"

Lyra opened her mouth to reply as she glanced at the books he had been reading, her eyes glistening with suspicion. Her expression turned blank as her voice turned cold and icy. "I haven't decided yet. Enjoy the last night of your studies Tom but I really wouldn't waste it reading that drabble."

He raised an eyebrow as he half grinned.

"I'm finding it quite an interesting read. But then again, maybe you're more versed on this subject than I."

She stared at him coldly as she turned around and started to walk away from him.

"I'll see you tomorrow Tom."

He watched as she turned the corner and out of his sight, looking back down towards the book. He opened it to the page from where he left off, smirking as he thought to himself " _Drabble indeed._ "

* * *

Lyra hastily swept down the great stone stairs that led out of the Athenaeum as her cape billowed behind her, her face hidden from the world as she made her way back towards the inn. She thought back to what had transpired just moments before and felt her insides burn with embarrassment and anger. She placed a hand up to her eyes as she traced the faint scars where she had been burnt. She hadn't thought them noticeable but clearly she had been wrong. She felt her cheeks get hot with anger as she thought of how she had reacted to Tom's unwanted attention. She wasn't embarrassed or ashamed of her marred skin, but when he looked at them, she felt as if he knew what she had been up to.

" _That was stupid of me to act so childish. You're letting your paranoia get the best of you._ "

She walked down the long pathway that led to Chadwick square, turning left into the bustling traffic of the marketplace. Lyra took her time as she passed the busy shops, where witches and wizards bustled in and out of the stores with bags of merchandise and haggled with the merchants parked along the street with their trolleys. She moved out of the way as an old plump witch passed her with a small cart filled with pastries, cakes and tarts.

"Cauldron Cakes! Pumpkin Pasties! Apple Tarts!" the old lady yelled as she passed Lyra.

"I'll take an apple tart please." Lyra said as she dug into her coin purse and handed the lady five sprinks. The witch smiled at her and handed her the pastry.

She continued down the street as she nibbled at the tart, watching others go about their days without care or worry.

" _I had forgotten how much I loved apple tarts."_ she mused as two children ran past her screaming and laughing, chasing each other around trolleys and crowds of people. " _Everything seemed so much easier as a child…_ " she thought as she watched the children. " _Well...mostly everything._ "

She smirked as she threw the napkin that held the tart into a nearby garbage bin, still thinking of her childhood.

" _Everything made so much more sense to me back then than it does now. Life held so much promise..._ "

As she snapped back from her thoughts, she noticed a small bookstore to the right of her. Lyra thought of Tom and of how she acted towards him and felt a creeping guilt rise up in her gut.

" _I shouldn't have taken my frustrations out on Tom…having a conversation with someone other than myself felt different for once, almost took my mind off of everything...I should get him something as an apology...he seems to like reading as much as I do…_ "

She walked up to the door and entered under a small wooden sign with gold lettering that read "Scrolls & Scribes"

The bookstore, although small in appearance from the street, was large and sprawling inside. As Lyra looked around she saw rows of books that were stacked neatly on shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, ranging in various sizes. Little tiny paper airplanes zoomed around the store as they landed in bins and slots and into fellow customers hands. She walked through the aisles as books flew past her and onto the shelving, categorizing and organizing themselves. Looking to her right she noticed a small leather bound book that was entitled "Beasts and Creatures of North America: The Full Anthology" . She picked it up and flipped through the pages as she continued to walk around the bookshop. Another book, this one larger in size, but seemingly used and dated caught her eye. The cover was also made of leather, but was so old that it felt like dried up sandpaper against her fingers. It was clasped together by a small little brass latch and had a tarnished golden pendant on the cover.

"I've seen this emblem before...but where?" she thought as she unlatched the clasp and opened the book. As she went to flip through its pages, she was interrupted by a voice behind her.

"Looking for anything in particular Ma'am?"

Lyra closed the book and shuffled it into her arms underneath Beasts and Creatures of North America and shook her head quickly at the young sales clerk behind her. Thinking once more of her appearance and not wanting to attract unwanted attention she politely responded "No thank you." , and headed to the front desk to purchase her items.

Exiting the store after her purchase, Lyra hastened her speed as she quickly walked to the inn. She hadn't realized how much time she had spent in the small shop and the sun was beginning to set. Knowing that they would be off to a different destination tomorrow, she had wanted time to pack her belongings and think logically about where she needed to go next to get the answers she so desperately sought.

" _It also wouldn't hurt to maybe get a full night's rest._ " she thought as she entered the Inn, bypassing the loud bustle of the dining area as other guests enjoyed their evening meals, heading up to the small room in which she was staying.

She had noticed Tom's room was dark and unoccupied as she let herself into her quarters.

" _He's probably still at the Athenaeum trying to learn what he can before we leave. I'd be there too if I thought that somewhere still among those stacks of books I would find something worthwhile._ "

She closed the door softly as she put the books she had purchased down onto the table and hung her cloak up by the bed. She winced slightly as she raised her wand up to illuminate the candles that adorned the room and tried to rub her shoulder, but it gave her little comfort.

" _My body's been through so much these past few weeks, no wonder I'm so sore._ " she thought as she walked over to another door in the room, right next to the fireplace where her cauldron was still hanging in the hearth. She tapped her wand on the dull brass knob three times and opened the door to reveal a large bathroom with a deep stone tub, already filled with water.

" _A hot bath might ease my pain a little, even if only for tonight._ " She thought as she disrobed slowly and walked over to the bath, placing a foot carefully inside it to check the temperature and entering it fully after she had realized the temperature was already perfect. The basin was deeper than it had looked and to Lyra felt more like a pool than any ordinary bath she had ever been in.

As she sat soaking in the heat of the water she tried to clear her mind of her troubles and worries and instead tried to distract herself by thinking of something else. She felt her mind wander back to Tom and the arrangement they had made.

" _This was foolish. What made you even think for one moment that it was a good idea to bring someone else, let alone a stranger, along with you across the country, when you can't even control your own body or mind? What if he finds out? He could ruin everything…_ "

She half laughed aloud as she thought bitterly " _Then again._ _what exactly could he ruin? I have nothing. I've been forced to give up everything I've ever cared about and for what? To live like this? It's been two years and I'm no closer to finding the solution to my ailment then when I first began looking. I'd be better off if I went to MACUSA and begged them to end it all._ "

She splashed her face with water as she shook her head. " _No. I can't think like that. The whole reason I've separated myself is to protect others. I'm the only one even remotely strong enough to try and subdue whatever this is and figure out how to destroy it. MACUSA would only kill me anyway, or lock me away...what good would that do? Once I die, if whatever this is isn't destroyed, this will happen to someone else...and I won't let that happen."_

She tapped her fingers on the side of the bath as her thoughts strayed once more. "Tom was reading books about possessions..."

As she listened to the dripping water she continued to stare off into the distance until a sudden thought popped into her head. " _I may not have figured out what is exactly wrong with me or how to get rid of it...but I wonder if I can subdue it….even if only for a little while…_ "

She sat up excitedly in the tub as she held waved her wand in the air, holding her hand out as a book flew into her outstretched palm.

" _Draught of peace, Pepperup Potion, Amortencia, Wolfsbane Potion….and here we are!"_

Lyra read aloud as she found the potion she had been looking for.

"Homenum Hobus. A potion to protect a witch or wizard from possession or malevolent intent." she smiled as she traced her finger downwards, reading the rest of the potion synopsis.

"...however, if the witch or wizard in question is already possessed or hexed, this may not expel the force in question, it may only act as a slight deterrent."

Lyra bit her lip as she thought about what she had read. " _Well, it couldn't hurt to try...and if it doesn't work at least this potion won't leave me with more scars to cover up."_

She looked down to read the ingredients and realized she had all but one.

" _Staghorn caps..it's the only ingredient I don't have...I knew I should have taken the time to go through my stores and replace what I was I was missing, but I've been so distracted lately….and now it's so late, I'm sure all the shops are bound to be closed by now…"_

She thought once more as to where she could get her hands on the mushroom when a sudden realization hit her.

" _I'm pretty sure when I was in the forest the other night, I came across a whole patch of these...I can't be certain but it's my only choice right now._ "

Lyra reached for a towel as she emerged from the tub, ignoring her still aching back as she dried herself off. She walked back into her bedroom as she placed the open potion book on the desk near her bed and put on the clean clothes she had laid out for herself. She quickly grabbed her cloak and threw it over herself, preparing herself for the night air.

* * *

 **Well next chapter posted and I'm already a quarter finished with the next! I hope you guys liked it! Next chapter is going to be a bit more interesting as things between our two characters start to heat up :) . Also….that piece of parchment Tom saved is a little bit of a nod to the curse he put on his diary, he had to have gotten in from somewhere in my opinion, Tom Riddle created his horcruxes before he protected them with terrible curses and spells because I would assume as he got older, his knowledge in the Dark arts would just grow. Also, the body hopping curse was inspired by how Tom would use snakes to keep himself alive in Albania before Quirrell found him. But as always please review, fav or follow!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

The sky had long since darkened from a bleak grey to a familiar black by the time Tom had decided to leave the Athenaeum. He took to the streets, the warmth of the day had since relented into a soft mist as the chill of the night air set in. The glow of the street lamps coupled with the thick fog of the air gave the night a gloomy expression. The fog loomed as far as he could see, it seemed as if it was almost tangible, shrouding everything in the thick white veil. The sounds of the daylight had faded away, the crowds of chatter and laughter had all disappeared and he watched as the the mist devoured his footsteps like a greedy beast. He stared ahead in the distance his mind preoccupied as he made the walk back to the inn.

The day had been long and largely unsuccessful for him, he had sifted through various spells and books that held many uses for himself but nothing that explained Lyra's mysterious affliction. He had even started to read books about curses and maledictions, but quickly ruled those out based on her symptoms and the lack of an identifiable beast. He had known this would be a challenge and he found himself consumed with the need to understand just exactly what it was and how it worked. He frowned as he thought back to earlier in the day when she had caught him off guard.

" _She knows that I know...or at least she suspects that I know something..I've got to figure out how I treat this going forward. I can't risk my own reasons for why I'm here for something that is nothing more than a curiosity."_

Tom narrowed his eyes as he continued to walk down the long cobbled street as he continued to think about Lyra. Perhaps it was time to change his strategy. He had thought it would be so easy to find her secrets out and use them to his advantage, but it was proving to be more problematic than he had anticipated. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that leverage over her wouldn't work in his favor to get what he wanted. He needed her full cooperation for certain areas that were of interest to him and he knew it would prove difficult without her.

" _I need her to trust me in order to get what I want._ "

Earlier it had become apparent to him that her increasing failures were making her become guarded and protected and when she had noticed what he had been reading in the library, her demeanor towards him had changed. She had withdrawn from his presence quickly and suddenly, when she had realized she had let her guard down. He had enjoyed his privacy and solitude in Salem, but he knew as they moved onwards in their travels they would be forced to spend more time together and if he wanted to reap everything that America had to offer, he needed to find a way to beguile her.

As he approached the inn he paused momentarily and looked up into the night sky. The stars glittered against the blackness creating twisted and warped shapes, glowing and dancing along the sky. He looked once more to the inn and felt the desire to go inside slip away, wanting instead to walk underneath the veil of darkness a little while longer. He continued to think as he walked further down the square, pulling his coat tighter to fend off the bite of the night air. His mind was calm, he had mastered the art of having a clear brain a long time ago. It was serene to feel his own intelligence, composed and collected, through his senses rather than his eyes and it always brought with it a new understanding. He felt as if everything around him was alive, the colours and sounds echoed off into the silent night, weaving new tapestries in his mind.

He walked alone, lost for hours in thoughts and perceptions that lingered on in his head, strolling down dimly lit side streets and pathways that seemed to go on endlessly until he found himself in an area he no longer recognized. The pavement was cracked and unkempt, the glow of the street lamps had all but disappeared and there was nothing in front of him but an overgrown path that led into the dark and overgrown forest before him. He hesitated as he stared at the wild and over run path before him, dried leaves lay on the ground, untouched and unbroken as a multitude of gnarled black roots spread across the pathway forming a crude walkway into the the dense woods.

Tom thought back to the inn and the warm bed that lay waiting for him there and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the fire whiskey Lyra had given him and took a sip from the flask. He closed his eyes and winced as he swallowed the liquid, feeling its burn as it made its way down his throat and into his belly. He placed it back into his pocket as he pulled his wand out, taking a step towards the black of the forest in front of him.

The woods were dark and foreboding but there was a sullen peace in his surroundings. His eyes flickered over the thick dark trunks of the trees that rose steadily into the night sky, their leaves and branches swaying with the night wind. The trees were densely packed together, leaving only small spaces for one to travel though, Tom grazed his hand against the rough bark of a neighboring tree and breathed in the smell of the forest. The musty smell of the leaves, fresh with the dew of the night, the warm soil under his feet that felt like a velvety cushion all teemed with magic. He felt as if the forest was alive.

" _This place reminds me of home…_ " he thought as he reminisced back to his days in Hogwarts. He had often stolen time and chance to wander around in the old and foreboding woods of the forbidden forest, trying desperately to learn its secrets and those of the creatures that dwelled inside. The other students had always been terrified of the dark woods, but he felt as if was akin to it somehow, the dark beasts and magic that would otherwise frighten others, delighted him. He thought back to the warnings that Lyra had given him about the forest and scoffed. The only thing remotely alarming he had seen in the woods had belonged to her and he had been able to handle that with the smallest of ease.

" _Silly girl. If that was your way of ensuring I wouldn't follow you into the woods and discover your secret, then it didn't work. The forbidden forest held more dangers to me than these woods. There's nothing here but trees._ "

Tom felt his eye's begin to grow heavy as he took one last look around. He had walked for hours after he had left the Athenaeum and it was starting to wear on him. He pulled his wand out as he prepared to disapparate, but paused as he heard a faint whisper call out to him.

He turned his head slowly as the whispers once more started to beckon to him.

"Please don't leave."

Tom raised his wand as he looked around, trying to find the source of the whispers.

"Who's there? Show yourself." he said rigidly.

"If I show myself, I won't be able to help you.." the voice said as it grew, no longer a whisper but a faint voice that sounded distant. It's tone neither man nor woman.

"And why would I need help?" he said cautiously as he followed the sound of the voice.

"I can give you power. I can give you knowledge...Isn't that what you are looking for?"

"What knowledge can you give me that I don't already possess?" Tom replied as he kept walking towards the source of the sound. "What could you possibly teach me?"

The voice paused momentarily as Tom slowed his pace. Although his senses were telling him to disapparate and leave the woods, his curiosity had been roused and he wanted to see who the voice belonged to.

"I can teach you many things, how to conquer your adversaries, how to become more powerful than you could ever imagine and how to master death itself. Is this not what you desire?"

Tom narrowed his eyes as he raised his wand in suspicion. "How do you know what I desire?"

The voice was louder now, Tom cleared a few branches from in front of his face with his wand as he continued to follow it through the brush and thicket, looking around warily to see where it originated from. It sounded so close as if whoever it belonged to was standing mere feet away.

"I know what everyone desires."

"If you have the power to see what I desire, then what else do you see?" Tom said brazenly as he stepped into a large barren clearing which housed the entrance to a large cave. The voice waited a few minutes before replying.

"I see a man, half born of magic, who reeks of death and fear."

Tom stepped forward as he shook with anger. "How dare you address me in such a manner. If you had any idea of whom you were talking to you'd never dare talk to me in such a manner. Come out from where you're hiding!"

He looked around impatiently as he waited for the voice to reply, but as he looked around he realized that the clearing was eerily silent and empty. He lifted his wand above his head, illuminating it so he could get a closer look at the shadows and forms that danced around him in the pale of the moonlight.

He felt the hair of the back of his neck slightly stand up as the light from his wand fell upon a set of claw marks in the tree nearest to him. His eyes traced the marks as he looked over towards the mouth of the cave, which held identical claw marks that ran deep into the rocks surface.

" _What kind of creature could make claw marks in solid stone…_ "

He wrinkled his nose in disgust as a putrid odor suddenly hit his nose, his eyes turned back to the cave once more as he saw a shadowy figure emerge through the opening.

Tom's eyes opened wide in horror as a creature, half man and half beast looked back at him from the cave with sunken eyes as hollow and blank as a skull. Its shriveled and decayed skin hung over its sharp bones, like an ashen grey burial shroud. The head of the beast resembled that of a dead bull's, its lips tattered and bloody revealing a set of large sharp teeth. It's arms dragged at its sides, each finger as long as Tom's wand and baring a long sharp ragged claw. The creature was unclean and looked as if it were already half decomposed, smelling like rotten flesh and decay.

He backed up slowly, his wand raised towards the creature as he felt a branch crack and break under his foot.

The creature turned it's head quickly towards him, lunging instantly at where he had stood. Tom sent a curse immediately towards the beast as he dodged out of it's way just in time. The creature, despite its gaunt and weakened looking appearance was faster than any other he had ever encountered.

It lunged again as Tom sent a bone breaking curse it way, listening as the creature howled in pain, nursing its wounds. Tom breathed heavily as he looked behind him, hearing bones cracking once more as the creature healed and snapped its bones back into place.

Realizing that he was fighting a losing battle with the beast before him, Tom sent another curse back in it's direction, trying to buy himself time so he could disapparate. His heart skipped a beat as he watched the world suddenly twist around him, his disapparation almost successful until he felt a searing pain rush across his shoulder; the creature had struck him in the arm with its long jagged claws.

" _It's moving too fast for me to even try to disapparate. But every curse I throw at it does nothing._ "

He dodged its claws once more as the monster jumped from tree to tree, rounding him up like a cattle for slaughter. He once more sent curse after curse, burning and blowing the branches apart that the creature crouched from, but to no avail. The beast was unharmed and unfazed, still focused on Tom, growling and howling viciously.

Tom winced as he tried to raise his arm, the pain blinding as if he was being stabbed with hot knives, he knew one curse that had never failed him as he opened his mouth to recite the words.

* * *

Lyra sighed as she knelt over the Staghorn mushrooms, collecting and placing them in a glass bottle until she was satisfied with her stores. She stood up and placed the glass jars inside her cloak as she wiped her hands against each other in an effort to rid herself of the soil and moss that had encrusted her hands. She rubbed her forehead as she pulled her wand out, eager to get back to the inn and start brewing the potion she had found.

" _I hope this works…_ " she thought to herself as she went to wave her wand. " _If it doesn't then I wasted a perfectly good bath for nothing._ "

She heard rustling to her right as she paused her incantation, curious as to what was making the sound and took a step back as watch a small family of deer run out from the thicket, panicked and running as fast as they could past her. She watched as many creatures started to make their way past her, and looked upwards into the sky observing flocks of birds fly away from the direction of the brush, the deer had just hopped out moments before.

Lyra raised her wand and cautiously walked in the direction from which the animals were fleeing, taking a sip from her flask to ward off any unforeseen dark creatures. The woods were eerily silent, more so than they had ever been before and she watched as she was slowly able to see her breath before her, escaping from her mouth like little puffs of smoke.

" _It's colder around here. Something's not right...I shouldn't be able to see my breath like this around this time of the year...it's not natural._ "

She walked forward cautiously as she heard trees breaking and a large growl echo from off ahead in the distance. Her wand was raised as she neared the clearing from where she had heard the noises and even though she was still standing at a far enough distance, she smelled an odor that immediately raised the hair on her neck in fear, the goose pimples forming on her skin. She recognized the smell and immediately took a step backwards, not willing to ensnare herself in the animals trap or risk her life.

She felt a twinge of guilt as she turned around to disapparate, knowing the fate of the person who had been unfortunate enough to cross paths with that particular beast. She had never encountered one before in person, but had remembered reading about them in school and they were far worse than any hide behind or dark creature a wizard could encounter.

Lyra stopped in her tracks as she heard one of the figures yell, in a voice she was altogether too familiar with.

"CONFRINGO!"

She watched in horror as two trees were blasted into pieces, revealing who had been behind the screams and her eyes caught a glimpse of the beast that stood before him.

" _Tom?!_ "

She ran towards the clearing as she watched the beast slowly approach Tom, its gaunt and ragged body arched as it lunged at him once more, claws outstretched as he barely moved out of the way in time. As she entered the clearing, her chest heaving and her wand before her, she screamed out his name, trying to distract the beast.

"TOM!"

Lyra's face watched in dread as Tom leaned on a tree opposite her holding his bloody and limp arm, his expression unreadable as his eyes fell on her. She raised her wand and conjured a large growing flame in the shape of a chimera that she sent towards the creature. It howled in pain as the flames engulfed its body, its shrieks and howls of pain growing louder as it ran towards her. The creature was fast, faster than she could have imagined and before Lyra could move out of harms way in time, she felt an outstretched claw rake across her stomach, ripping and tearing through her flesh and bone.

* * *

Tom's head turned as he heard a familiar voice shout his name across the clearing and watched as Lyra ran towards them, her long raven locks billowing against the wind as a giant flame burst from the tip of her wand, aiming it at the beast lunging towards her in agony. He pushed himself up off the tree and watched as it swiped at Lyra angrily, catching her in the belly. He raised his wand as he heard her shout at him.

"Fire Tom! That's the only way to kill it!" she grimaced as her other hand gripped her stomach in pain, her spell waning as she lost strength.

Tom watched as the beast, still on fire, tried to escape back into the dark cave, shrieking in anger as it had realized it's inevitable doom. Tom flicked his wand quickly as the clearing became encircled in a ring of fire, effectively blocking the creature from running back to safety. It howled in fury as it changed its course, realized it had been trapped and ran towards Tom, it's sharp teeth gleaming brilliantly against the blaze of the fire, ready to tear him to pieces. He slashed his wand once more as a giant inferno of fire in the shape of a serpent swallowed the beast whole, it's body seized in pain as the pitious wails finally faded into nothing and it had fallen dead onto the ashes of the forest floor.

Tom quickly flicked his wand as he watched the fires eventually fade and disappear, the clearing submerged in a cloud of billowing smoke. He waved his wand as the smoke slowly dissipated, leaving the charred remains of the creature behind. He watched as the ashes slowly started to blow away and disappear with the night breeze.

He heard a whimper as his eyes raced over to where Lyra had been, her delicate figure huddled and slumped over at the base of a tree, gasping for breath as she held her stomach. Tom walked over slowly as he stared down at the woman in front of him. Through her hand he could see vast amounts of blood oozing from between her fingers, her face white and ghostly. She was seriously wounded and without help she would surely die. Tom stared at her, fighting with himself as to whether he would help her or not. He felt no guilt for her injury, he hadn't asked for her help, she had willingly given it. But he knew that if he let her die, he would never get to experience everything he had come to North America for.

" _Damn her._ " He thought as he knelt down in front of her and tried to remove her shaking hands from her stomach, he needed to see how deep her wounds went. She looked up at him with weak eyes and grabbed his wrist with her bloody hand shaking her head, her raven hair stuck to the sweat on her face as she choked on her own words and blood.

"Let….me….die.."

He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he tore her bloody hand off his wrist and laid it back down at her side.

"No." he said calmly as he waved his wand over her stomach, watching as her wounds started to close and heal. "I need you alive. You're no use to me dead."

He heard her whimper and her breathing grow shallow as a strange sound emanated from her throat. He glanced up at her face quickly as he watched her eyes close and roll back into her head, her body seizing suddenly. Tom grabbed her shoulders quickly as he tried to shake her, he knew all too well what was about to happen. He had finally killed one beast only to be faced with another.

"Lyra wake up. WAKE UP!"

He watched as her eyes slowly opened, black and glittering like diamonds in the night sky. She was starting to change.

" _This is the last thing either of us need tonight._ " He thought to himself as he held his wand up to her face. " _Whatever beast that lives inside you is going to have to take tonight off. I'm in no mood._ "

He waved his wand as he whispered a sleeping spell over her, watching as her eyes closed and her body went limp once more. He felt the night breeze lick at his wounded shoulder as he grimaced in pain. He was reminded of how vulnerable they were at the moment and he silently cursed. He needed to heal her as well as himself, but in a more suitable location.

Tom bent over once more as he picked her limp body up in his arms, the front of his shirt, once white, was now full of dirt and blood as he pressed her body to his. With a sudden -CRACK- they both disappeared from the woods as he disapparated.

* * *

 **Well this chapter was WAY longer than I had intended it to be BUT I really honestly didn't know where to cut it off. I've been working on this chapter for a bit, its SO HARD to try to NOT have Tom be OOC. In my mind I think that Tom would mostly be standoffish and arrogant, and only be nice or do nice things when they benefit him, so it's definitely taken me awhile to figure out a situation that would really finally bring both characters together. Also I do think that Tom would be arrogant enough to not really know MUCH about magical creatures and underestimate the danger they hold because in the books he ALWAYS overlooked creatures he thought to be below him. But I do think that he would fear bodily harm somewhat, knowing what state it would leave him in if he lost his body. So I don't doubt that he would definitely run into trouble in other countries when it comes to dealing with certain creatures, traditions and would definitely show an arrogant recklessness when it comes to his physical state of being. Please Comment or Review, Fav or Follow if you have enjoyed! The more I get back the more I'm motivated to write! Next chapter is coming within a week! Stay tuned!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

They had apparated into the dimly lit hallway of the Inn as Tom breathed out quickly, relieved they were the only ones in the hall. He looked at the heavy wooden door before him as he silently cursed. He was unsure of how well Lyra had secured the entrance to her room, but knew it was the room in which they needed to be, his room lacking all the stores and ingredients he needed to ensure Lyra would heal properly. Still holding Lyra in his arms, he aimed his wand at the door as he muttered a small charm to unlock it, hoping it would work. He knew there were other measures to open it if the small charm failed, but he saved them for last, unwilling to wake the other guests in the Inn and alerting them to their current state of affairs.

He heard a small click and watched as the door swung open, surprised at how despite being so guarded and protective, Lyra had not taken further measures to protect her belongings. The candles were still lit in the room as he walked over her bed, placing her limp body down on the mattress as he ripped the sheets back. He closed the door slowly and rolled up his sleeves as he stared at her torso, still torn and bloodied from the wounds the beast had inflicted on her. He ignored the pangs of pain coming from his own shoulder as he held his wand over her dress, ripping open the seams, as he cleared the fabric and debris from the deep lacerations that he hadn't had a chance to heal yet.

" _My shoulder will have to wait, if I don't clean and heal these wounds she'll die. She's already lost a lot of blood._ "

He held his wand over her stomach as he started to chant a healing spell, watching as her muscles and nerves wove together and her flesh started to bind once more. The task was arduous and grueling as once he had completed mending some of the wounds, a previously healed wound would burst open, undoing everything he had just done and he would have to go back and repeat the process. He waved his wand towards the towels that lay on the floor, catching them as they flew into his hand and filled the basin on her nightstand with fresh water, trying to stem her bleeding. He walked over to the other side of the room, opening a large standing wooden cabinet and rooting through the various potion ingredients looking for what he needed. He sifted through the various vials and jars, his bloody fingers slipping and leaving stains on the glasses as he found what he had been looking for.

Tom uncorked a small vial labeled "Dittany" as he walked over to Lyra and dropped some of the clear liquid on her open wounds. He continued to chant once more as the dittany had begun to work, her lacerations healing finally as he lifted his wand.

" _She'll be scarred as I didn't have the dittany on time, but she'll live._ "

He wiped his forehead with his forearm as he turned to the basin and grabbed a fresh cloth. Dipping it in the water and squeezing the excess off, he cleaned the blood and dirt off her stomach gently and waved his wand in a circular motion as fresh bandages appeared and wrapped themselves around her wounds. He washed his hands quickly and reached for the bottle of dittany once more, wincing as he held it above his shoulder, letting the clear drops fall onto his arm, vapors rose as he watched his own wounds mend and heal.

Tom walked over to the cabinet once more and placed the vial of dittany back on the shelf as his eyes fell upon an open potions book on the table next to him, with an empty vial labelled "Staghorn Caps" resting next to the open page.

" _So that's why she had been in the woods…_ " He picked up the book as he read the potion and what it had entailed. " _Homenum Hobus...seems more of a preventative potion than one that would help her with her current affliction. No doubt she's trying to keep it at bay now while she searches for a cure…_ "

His eyes glanced at the ingredients and furrowed his brows at the idea of adding staghorn caps to the potion. " _This potion lacks an ingredient that would put the subconscious part of the mind to rest...Moonstone dust would be a far better approach to the solution…_ "

He put the book down as he heard Lyra take a deep ragged breath.

" _It'll be awhile before we leave Salem...her wounds were deep._ "

He once again went to the cabinet and started to pull out multiple ingredients, the glasses clinking together as he placed them on the table next to him. He walked over to Lyra's cauldron and moved it over to the hearth, where he ignited a fire underneath it with his wand.

" _She lost too much blood, I need to make a blood replenishing potion..."_

He started to pour ingredients into the cauldron, carefully mixing and measuring as he stirred it with his wand. Tom stood over the cauldron painstakingly until the potion had finally bubbled over and consistency thickened; turning into a brilliantly deep shade of garnet.

Tom ran his hands through his hair as he let the cauldron simmer. The potion was supposed to brew for a few hours, but he knew she needed it faster than he could make it.

" _Normally this should brew three hours for full potency, but she doesn't have that long. If I can make a large amount of the potion, I can give her double the amount needed once an hour and that should suffice…"_

He walked back over to Lyra's bed as he watched her sleep. She was drenched in sweat and he watched as it trickled down her pale white face and onto her pillow. Her usually softly styled curls were matted to her face, sticking to her forehead and cheeks as her body started to shiver.

Tom brought his hand up to her forehead and hesitated before he slowly lowered it to feel her temperature. The heat of her skin crept into his fingers as he felt a burning feeling rise up from his stomach, quickly pulling his hand away. To him it was an invasion, an unwanted intimacy and even though it had lasted for only a moment, it was still too much.

He looked around for more towels in the room, but when he could find none, he looked down towards his blood stained shirt, far too soiled to be cleaned and ripped a piece of fabric from the sleeve; submerging it in the water and laying it upon her forehead to break her fever. He grabbed an empty chair from the corner from the room and placed it near her bed, watching her through tired and sore eyes as she slept. He held his wand in his hands softly running his fingers over it as he thought about why he was doing all of this.

" _You need her alive. That's why all of this is necessary. If she dies, then she takes any chance you have of learning what this country has to offer you with her. Had this been under any other circumstance you would have left her in the woods._ "

He thought back to when he had first seen her enter the clearing, shouting his name with her wand erupting in flames. His first reaction was anger, anger at the thought of needing help from someone else, then anger turned into relief when he realized she had subdued the beast enough for him to kill it. But he was still confused.

Why had she run to help him?

Why did she care?

She could have easily abandoned the woods and left him to his own devices. But instead she had risked her life to help him without hesitation and had almost died in the process. He couldn't understand it.

He looked at her once more as his eyes trailed her body, a small flash on silver caught his eyes, shining brilliantly from underneath the sheet. Tom leaned closer as his wand moved the blankets around where her right hand lay and looked at a small bracelet around her wrist. The silver was tarnished and aged, with a small pendant in the middle. Old empty holes encompassed the circular talisman and as he pulled at it with his wand, he saw that the holes were supposed to house small clear stones, most of which had fallen out but some had remained, giving the the piece of jewelry an old and antiqued look. He let the bracelet fall off the tip of his wand as he heard the cauldron bubble and sizzle. He pushed the chair back as he slowly got up and walked towards the cauldron, looking in and stirring it with his wand.

" _This will have to do._ " he thought as he walked over to the cabinet, pulling out a glass as he tipped a large amount of the potion into it. He waved his wand around the glass, cooling off the boiling liquid as he walked over towards Lyra.

" _She needs to drink this...but she's still unresponsive…_ "

He grimaced as he realized what he was going to have to do. He placed the cup down beside her bed as he slowly sat down next to her, uncomfortable and hesitant as he gently picked her head up, cradling her neck and slid his arm underneath her, ignoring the burning feeling radiating through his body . He propped her head up against his chest, as he tilted her chin, ensuring she wouldn't choke on the potion. He grabbed the glass and slowly brought it to her lips as he tipped some of the potion into her mouth, waiting patiently as it slowly trickled down her throat. He went on like this for an hour until most of the potion had been administered and slowly removed his arm from underneath her, placing her head gently back on the pillow. He watched as a small bead of the potion sat upon her pale lips as he gently placed his thumb on her bottom lip, wiping it away carefully. His finger lingered as his gaze moved from her eyes, outlining all of her delicate features and finally resting upon her lips as he suddenly realized what he had done. He pulled his hand away quickly once more as if he had just been poisoned and recoiled.

" _Enough._ " he thought as he quickly turned away from her, trying to ignore the inexplicable emotions he felt and moved the chair he had previously sat in to a dark corner of the room. He needed rest. His mind raced once more to the warm bed that lay empty in his room and shook his head as he settled into the chair, rubbing his eyes. He needed to administer the potion every hour until she awoke, otherwise everything he had done tonight would be in vain.

He leaned his arm against the side of the chair and rested his head into his palm, raising his head to stare out the small window to his right, watching the night sky fade as he slowly fell asleep.

* * *

Lyra opened her eyes as she felt a wave of nausea and pain wash over her body.

" _Where am I?_ " she thought as she felt the soft cushion of a mattress underneath her, warm and supple.

She tried to prop herself up, ignoring the pounding pain in her head as she let out a large yelp, the blinding pain coming from her stomach outweighing the pounding of her head.

Opening her eyes she watched as the room slowly came into focus, the intrusive rays of light that came from the window fell on her as she traced the walls and furniture with her eyes until she finally realized that she was in her bed, in her room, at the inn.

" _How did I get here?_ " she thought as she went to rub her head, her hands grasping the damp fabric that lay across her forehead. " _What is this?_ " she thought as she slowly pulled it off and laid it beside her.

She groaned once more as she tried to prop herself up. All she could remember was running into the clearing to help Tom, fire and a blinding pain before her world went dark.

Her mind raced as a thought struck her.

" _Tom! …. I wonder if he's ok?"_

As she propped herself up, she winced once more as she tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed, the pain was unbearable.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

She gasped as she looked around, watching as Tom stood up from the chair in the corner. Her mouth opened slightly as her eyes raced from his face, distended with exhaustion, to his shirt which was torn and filthy and most shockingly, covered in blood.

"How-How long have you been sitting there?" she asked, unsure of how to react.

"Approximately one hour…" he said as he continued. "From the last time I gave you a blood replenishing potion. But if you'd like to know how long I've been in your room...all night." he said as he walked across the room slowly and poured some more of the potion into the glass he had been using all night. He looked exhausted.

"Drink this." he said gently as he handed her the potion. "It'll make you feel better. You've lost a lot of blood."

She took the glass from him reluctantly as she raised it to her lips, her hands trembling from how weak her body had become.

"Your shirt….is that my blood...or yours?"

"Mostly yours, but probably a little of mine as well.." he said as he moved the chair to sit down opposite her, staring intensely as he watched her drink the potion.

"You should have let me die…" she said quietly as she sipped the potion. "It would have been for the best.."

She trailed off as she stared off into the distance, Tom watched as her eyes held a far away look.

"Not for me." he said as he took the glass once more. "You made me a promise. I intend to hold you to it."

Lyra wiped her mouth as she tried to lay back down. "You wouldn't understand…" she said softly as she pulled the sheets over herself. Her hands brushed up against the gauze on her stomach, her cheeks starting flush as she wondered how much of her body Tom had seen.

"What is it that you think I wouldn't understand?" he said softly as he filled her glass up once more and placed it beside her on her nightstand.

"...It's complicated…" Lyra said as her eyes stared up towards the ceiling. "Why is it that you need me anyway, you've already proved you can handle yourself...unlike myself apparently."

" _How things have changed._ " she thought bitterly.

"It's complicated." he replied back smugly as he sat down across from her once more.

She grinned slightly until a flashback of the previous night flashed through her mind. She remembered Tom and how he had pulled her hands from her stomach ignoring her pleas for death, she remembered the familiar feeling of the hairs on her neck standing up and then a blinding pain until her world descended into darkness. Her blood ran cold as she turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide and fearful.

"Tom...did anything else happen last night…? Did you see anything that looked...strange?"

He looked into her eyes as she trembled, his eyes intense and dark as she searched them and quickly looked away, a red flush creeping up onto her cheeks.

He broke his gaze as he stood up. "You need rest."

He paused as he turned to leave her bedside. "I am curious though, what was that creature in the woods? I've never encountered anything like that before."

Lyra winced as she tried to reposition herself. "I wouldn't have expected you to and hopefully you will never encounter any creature like that again. That Tom, was a wendigo."

"A...wendigo?" he said, unsure of the term.

"Yes. I told you when we had first arrived in Salem that during the witch trials, our ancestors had placed certain...cursed protections around the city. Wendigo's were part of that protection, only they soon found out that they were uncontrollable...and dangerous. There's a lot of folklore as to how Wendigo's came to be...some say they've always been here, feeding on unsuspecting travelers or people unfortunate enough to come across them, others say that they were once no-maj's, cursed and transformed into beasts, filled with an insatiable appetite for flesh. They lure their prey in by projecting voices that aren't real, filling their heads with false promises and cries for help. This is why I told you to ignore strange sounds in the woods. There aren't many left in North America, and MACUSA has tried to destroy most of them...but they're difficult to kill Tom. Only the most skilled wizards have succeeded. I myself have never encountered one until last night, and we're lucky to be alive."

He nodded as he looked towards the door.

"I see..." he said as he reached his hand out to grab the doorknob, a small creak could be heard as he slowly turned it and opened the large wooden door.

"Tom?" she said as she continued to stare straight ahead, unable to turn around and look towards him.

"Yes?"

"Thank you...for everything.."

He paused as he nodded and closed the door softly behind him.

* * *

 **And there we go folks. I was super happy to include some North American folklore into the story as much as I can, I tried to do my research into how a wendigo would act and look, I hope I didn't botch it too much! ...and the story is heating up! Once again I don't feel like it's too OOC for Tom to actually help someone that might benefit himself, plus I thought it appropriate that he would definitely be skilled and learned enough to not only mend wounds but brew potions correctly and under stress. Hope you all like it so far! Review, follow and favorite! All are appreciated !**


	16. Chapter 16

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

Lyra awoke suddenly covered in a cold sweat, her perspiration free flowing like condensation off a window pane as it rolled down between her shoulder blades. She raised her hand to wipe her forehead as she felt a small bead trickle down and fall off her face and onto her pillow. Laying there in the heated sheets of the bed she wondered how long she had slept. She turned her head slowly towards the window, hoping to catch a glance of the sun's rays but felt her heart drop as she saw the pitch blackness of the night.

" _I've slept the whole day…_ " she thought as she tried once more to prop herself up in bed, wincing as she felt the pang of her stomach wounds once more. " _I can't lay here anymore, I've got to brew that potion. The more time I waste, the less time I have to prevent myself from losing control again. I can't let this pain stop me._ "

Grabbing the sheets, she slowly pulled them back towards the wall exposing her torn and bloody clothing that hung from her body. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but closed her eyes in relief, feeling better knowing that Tom had not seen the more intimate parts of her body.

" _At least I still have SOME of my dignity._ " she thought to herself in anger. She had always felt a deep sense of pride from her unwavering independence and the fact that she had needed another's help as a result of her feckless behavior, wounded her ego.

" _Reckless fool._ " she scolded herself internally as she slowly moved her legs, one by one, until they were hanging off the side of the bed, her feet on the cold wooden floor. Waving her wand quickly, she waited as a clean sleeping dress flew into her hands. She jabbed her wand once more towards her tattered and stained clothing, watching as the dress ripped itself apart and fell into ragged pieces on the ground.

Lyra grimaced as she raised her hands slowly above her head, one arm at a time, pulling the clean garment over her head and sliding it over her carefully. She gripped the side of the mattress as she breathed in heavily, the pain from her belly sharp and intense as her muscles tightened. Lifting herself off the bed, she put her arms out in front of her, trying to maintain her balance so as not to fall, her body weaker than she had thought.

She heard Tom's voice reverberate in the back of her head as she grabbed the chair near her bed and steadied herself on it.

" _You need rest._ "

She scowled and straightened her back slowly " _I cannot rest. I must continue on, however poor the results of my endeavors are. I can rest when I am dead and then nothing will matter anymore."_

She thought once more about Tom and anger flashed in her eyes. " _He changed the subject when I had asked him what else he saw when I had blacked out...I felt the tremors, I felt the hairs on my neck standing up, I know what it feels like before I lose myself..._ "

She furrowed her brows and rubbed her eyes in frustration. Glancing towards her nightstand, she stared at the full glass of replenishing potion she had left there and grabbed it reluctantly, swallowing it in one gulp. She raised her hand to her mouth to prevent herself from vomiting it back up, the unpleasant taste lingering on her tongue. It had been left on her nightstand for hours, cold and coagulated and she could feel it descending down her throat like a cold soup.

" _He saw something...and he's lying, that's why he avoided my question. Next time I see him, I have to force the truth out of him. By whatever means necessary._ "

Looking towards her wooden cabinet filled with her various stores and potion ingredients she made her way over, her feet softly padding against the frigid floor. She opened the large doors, and started to sift through some of the larger bottles and flasks, looking carefully at the labels and tags.

" _But...for the first time in months you haven't woken up covered in blood, cleaning up the aftermath of the damage you've wrought...could he have had something to do with that?_ "

She bit her lip, lost deep in thought and winced suddenly when she realized she had drawn blood, the metallic taste dancing around her tongue.

" _Damnit."_

She wiped her mouth with her thumb as she picked up another glass bottle and placed it down irritably, it still wasn't what she was looking for. Sucking her teeth slightly, she pulled her wand out and summoned what she had been so anxiously searching for. A bottle flew into her hands from the endless eternity of the cupboard.

"I thought I still had some of this still laying around." Lyra said as she dusted off the neatly written label that read **Wiggenweld Potion** , and popped the cork off the top. She took a sniff of the liquid, unsure as to when it had been brewed, and raised her eyebrow in skepticism as she brought it up to her lips, drinking deeply.

"As long as this hasn't lost its potency, this should help me heal faster."

Her eyes glanced down towards the table next to her as they fell on the potion page she had been reading the night before.

She had completely forgotten about the book.

Her blood ran cold as she realized that the book and page had been open the whole night, exposed and laid out for Tom to see. There was no hiding it anymore, she had to find out what he had seen and done.

* * *

Tom rubbed his face as he awoke from bed, refreshed. There was no looming exhaustion, no time wasted on slowly stretching in bed. Within seconds of waking up, he was on his feet, eyes wide and taking in everything that had assaulted his senses at once. He splashed his face with cool water as he ran his hands through his hair, pausing to look at his shoulder in the mirror.

His wounds had healed perfectly, his skin smooth and soft.

Absentmindedly, he grabbed the locket that hung around his neck, stroking and twisting the chain around his fingers as he walked over to his suitcase and grabbed a clean shirt from inside. As he pulled the shirt from his luggage, a gleam of gold caught his eye as the handle of Helga Hufflepuffs cup poked out from inside of a sack. He laid the shirt down on the table as he opened the small bag that contained his most prized possessions and smiled. He had taken them with him on purpose, unable yet to decide where and to whom he could entrust his horcruxes with. He noticed the small ring that lay in the bottom of the pouch and gently picked it up, staring at it greedily as he placed it on his finger.

" _My uncle's ring…_ " He stared at the jewelry once more as a devilish grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. He thought back to how he had stolen the ring and had created his next horcrux. His heart skipped a beat as he relished the memory of how he had exacted revenge upon his father, killing him and laughing at his pitiful pleas for mercy. " _Everyone has a purpose for something, even you father…_ "

He hadn't worn it for some time, he didn't think it wise for a poor store clerk who owned so little to flaunt such jewelry openly. Better to hide it and avoid all suspicion; the less attention he brought to himself, the better. But here, no one knew him or what humble beginnings he had come from, no one would even think twice to question why he wore such jewelry.

He smirked as he picked up the clean shirt from the table, sliding his arms into it carefully as he buttoned it up to the collar, watching as the small black stone of his ring gleamed in the light. He sat down at the table as he reached once more into the bag, pulling out the first horcrux he had ever made, his diary.

Tom opened up the book lazily as he flipped through the empty pages with his thumb and forefinger. He picked up his quill and dipped it lightly into the ink as he scribbled onto a blank page.

 **SHOW ME**

He stared at the pages as words started to appear before him, his own ink bleeding back before him as the book answered.

 **WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE?**

He dipped his quill once more and put the tip to the parchment.

 **EVERYTHING.**

The diary answered him once more, the words quickly scrawling across the page.

 **WHO ARE YOU?**

Tom smirked as he slowly wrote his reply, his calligraphy deliberate and neat,

 **I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.**

He watched as multitudes of entries and pages of his innermost thoughts and secrets revealed themselves to him. He had written in this diary years ago, before and after he had made it his first horcrux. His detailed events of his ongoings at Hogwarts, his most nefarious curses and spells he had created and his detailed instructions on how he had opened the Chamber of Secrets. Once the chamber had been opened and the school threatened with closing its doors forever, he had been forced to wipe the book clean and hide all evidence that could have led back to him. It had been a difficult spell to produce and had taken him a while to perfect it so that he may still feed the book information if he so pleased. It was one of the pieces of magic he had invented that he was most proud of.

He tapped his lips with his quill as his hand reached across the desk, shuffling through the folded and scattered bits of parchment he had written notes on during his time in the Athenaeum, until he came across the paper he had been looking for:

 _ **Physical Possession and Manifestation of a Physical Body through Chosen Objects**_

 _Although seemingly improbable in nature, the idea that one may preserve his or her likeness in an object with the sole intention of rebirth has existed for many years. Scholars have argued that although no one has successfully attempted this feat, the idea that one may rebuild their own likeness by parasitically draining their host through a cursed or dark object may in be achievable. One the host has adequately supplied the imprint of the objects owner with enough of their own strength and life, their likeness will come to fruition_.

He tapped his finger on his desk as he read the passage. He had never thought to turn the book into something more than a horcrux or diary, but the idea of having a weapon this valuable was enticing.

" _To be able to take my memories and create a living and possible likness preserved within these pages would be most useful. This could prove to be valuable in the future, should anything ever happen to my physical body. A clean slate, younger, but just as powerful_ _would emerge, like a phoenix from the ashes."_

He smiled, proud of his brilliance, but grimaced as his thoughts strayed to his behavior the night before, still irritated with how he had behaved.

" _I do not regret saving her life. I still need her and Lyra could still prove to be quite an asset in other ways..but my actions and how I felt around her last night are troublesome...and infuriating._ "

He had always prided himself in his lack of interest in carnal pleasures and had never found any member of the opposite or same sex appealing. He thought himself different, far above those who would waste their time on trying to impress or woo another. Any time or effort not spent studying or on personal ambition was frivolous and he was anything but. He desired power, he sought immortality and anything other than that to him he had deemed useless.

What was it about her that made his insides feel as if they were on fire?

At first the feelings had sprung from his discomfort with the feeling of another's skin on his, he had had very few interactions in his life, the idea was revolting and degrading to him. In the events and weeks following after, he had chalked it up to an obsession with finding out what she had been trying to hide, his every thought consumed with the idea of a knowledge that was forbidden to him. It had excited and challenged him. But now that he knew her secret, what was the new reasoning?

" _What is it?_ " he thought as he ran his hands through his hair.

She possessed many of the qualities he himself admired. Determination, power, skill, intelligence and ambition.

He remembered what he had witnessed in the woods and what he had felt as he watched her from behind the rows of trees and brush:

 _Look away...look away and leave._

 _He wasn't curious any longer, he had seen what he had come for._

 _But he couldn't look away and he couldn't leave._

 _He was entranced and there was something in that moment, in that very particular moment, that made her look ethereal to him, her silhouette against the moon and the flames, speaking forbidden words that would mark her soul forever._

 _It had been intoxicating and something had stirred inside him from that moment on._

He pushed himself away from the table suddenly, irritated at where his mind had gone and had started to pace around the room angrily, cursing himself silently.

In that moment he felt murderous, he wanted nothing more than to burst through the door to her quarters and scream the words that were forbidden to him in this country. To watch as the life drained from her face, her eyes empty and hollow. But he could not and he would not, such actions would be counterproductive to everything he desired.

He stared once more at the diary, his insides roiling from the pent up aggression he held within and sat back down, ripping a fresh piece of parchment from the pile. He wrote furiously as he poured his anger into his endeavors.

* * *

Hours later Tom stood before the diary, his wand pointed confidently towards it as he lifted it above his head and brought it down quickly in the direction of the book as a red stream of magic erupted from the tip of his wand. He internally spoke the words he knew would turn his horcrux into an important tool for himself and watched as the book glowed, the dark magic settling into its pages and bindings.

The spell had taken a while to come up with but once he had found the rudimentary words that needed to be strung together, the rest of it had been easy. He had figured out that in order for the curse to weaken whomever wrote in it's pages, he needed to weaken himself temporarily to give the book it's power. He watched as he dragged his wand across his hand, creating a small laceration on his palm, and watched hungrily as he squeezed his hand into a fist tightly, the blood dripping onto the pages of the book, disappearing quickly as the book took in what he had given.

He had once again achieved what others had only dreamed of.

* * *

 **Thank you once again for reading so far! Hope you all enjoyed this Chapter I know it wasn't the longest but there's going to be too much in the next chapter to include it all at once, so I needed a logical place to cut it off at. More to come within the following weeks. Please review and follow if you're enjoying it so far! Thank you as always for the support!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

Lyra cursed softly as she grabbed her stomach, wincing as she poured another ingredient into her cauldron, stirring the potion as she grit her teeth in pain. The longer she spent on her feet, the more misery she was in.

Sharp pain lanced through her stomach once more as colorful spots flashed in front of her eyes, her whole body shaking from weakness. Her delicate fingers balled themselves into fists out of irritation, her already pale knuckles turned white and trembled. She had stood for hours, mixing, chopping and mashing ingredients for the potion, adding them slowly and making notes in her book as she changed and swapped out certain elements, trying to make the potion more effective. The monotonous work had taken a toll on her body and she was growing increasingly frustrated as she had progressed, exasperated with her body's unwillingness to keep up with her mind.

Feeling her insides roil and turn in anger, she suddenly grabbed the glass that stood on the table next to her and threw it against the opposite wall, screaming as her chest heaved heavily. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead as she tried to compose herself.

" _Everything has to be brewed perfectly…"_ she thought as she looked back to the book and skimmed her eyes over the page that now had scribbles and marks written angrily all over it. " _If I don't time things out correctly and precisely, this will be a waste and I'll have to start all over again. My body is slowing me down.._ "

Lyra looked to the small window that overlooked her room and closed her eyes as the light from the sun shone into her room, signaling the beginning of a new day.

" _Another day wasted._ " she thought bitterly as she leaned her weight against the table next to where she stood, slowly bending over to rest her palms out before her on the dry cracked wood of its surface, her head bowed in concentration.

" _I don't even know if this potion will work, but it's the only option I have right now...If only I could figure out what happens to me when I lose myself I might be able to pinpoint how to control it._ "

She grimaced once more as her thoughts fled back to Tom and what he could have witnessed. " _It's already too late to hide my ailment, but maybe if Tom told me what he has seen I could get an inkling as to what I'm dealing with here, I might be able to stop this. I need him to tell me._ "

She rubbed her stomach tenderly as her figure hunched over the table, it did little to cure her aching wounds, but it helped enough to give her momentary respite from the pangs of pain erupting from her stomach. She uncorked the Wiggenwald potion and took a long drink from the bottle as she placed it down once more, wiping her mouth.

" _This healing potion has lost its potency. In order for me to heal as quickly as I need I would have to brew another one, which I can't do at the moment. I can barely mix the ingredients for Homenum Hobus without my body giving out on me, let alone prepare another set of ingredients. Even if I could, the hearth isn't big enough for both. I would have to throw away everything I've done so far-_ "

Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard a gentle knocking on her door. Grabbing her wand quickly she pointed it at the door as it slowly opened.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw Tom enter her room and close the door quietly behind him. His face was calm and collected. She felt her anger rise once more, outraged that he would enter her room without permission. Last night had been a different matter entirely, she could forgive that, but today was another matter entirely, she would not condone his entering whenever he pleased.

Although they had already been together for some time, she was still unaccustomed to travelling with company and had been so consumed with her task at hand, she had completely forgotten to bar the entrance to her room with a locking enchantment.

"You shouldn't be out of bed." He said matter of factly as he glanced in her direction, closing the door behind him. He looked at her while she pointed her wand angrily at him, his attention then slid to the broken glass scattered across the floor, the contents of what had been inside smattered against the wall as it trickled down and pooled onto the floor.

"Is this how you treat someone who has just saved your life?" he spoke calmly as he took a few steps towards her, his eyebrow slightly raised in amusement.

"Get out." she hissed at him through her clenched teeth, cringing as she felt a new wave of pain tugging at her insides.

"Or you'll do what exactly?" he said arrogantly as he pulled his own wand out. "You can barely stand. I'd be surprised if you could even hex me properly in the shape you're in."

Lyra's face contorted with anger as she tried to raise her wand over her head. She cried out in pain as her body suddenly folded out from underneath her, defeated from the strain she had put on it.

Tom took another step towards her as he spoke softly. "I told you you needed rest. Doing all this is counterproductive to your health. Whatever you're trying to do can surely wait."

She held her hand out towards him to stop him, as she turned her head. "I don't need your help."

She slowly raised herself up once more on her feet, breathing heavily as she made her way over to her bed, sitting down carefully as she looked out the window.

"I don't have much time Tom. Every moment I waste here on this bed is detrimental to-"

"To what?"

She turned her head towards him as her eyes searched his, silently pleading. "I need you to tell me what you saw the other night."

He looked at her as she searched his face for any sign of what he could be hiding from her and relaxed his face innocently. He wasn't willing to divulge what he had learned about her, not yet.

"I'm unsure of what you mean." he said as he blinked quizzically, his emotions outwardly disguised by his guiltless face.

"Don't lie to me Tom."

He put his hands in his pockets as he leaned up against her wardrobe, looking down at her arrogantly.

"What did you see?" She said as her voice shook, trying fervently to hold her temper in.

"What did I see? I saw a dying woman barely clinging to life. I saved you." He said softly as he broke eye contact with her and lazily stared out the window. He was enjoying watching her squirm, watching her anger rise up in her cheeks as he denied her what she had wanted to hear. "But if I would have known how angry it would have made you, I might not have wasted my time."

" _Could it be possible that she doesn't know what becomes of her when she undergoes her changes? Is this why she's so desperate to find out what I know?_ " he thought to himself as he looked at her nonchalantly.

Lyra eyed him suspiciously as she let out an exasperated sigh. She was getting nowhere and her strength was fading. Although she had vowed to herself that she would make him tell her what he had seen, she knew she did not currently, in her condition, possess the strength in order to make him comply.

" _I'll have to try a different method then._ "

She pulled herself into bed weakly as she stared up into the ceiling.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way Tom, do not mistake my agitation for ingratitude. That was never my intention...perhaps I've projected my anger and frustrations onto you wrongly." She said gently as tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You'll feel better once you've healed and you'll realize that this is all folly." He said softly as he ran his fingers lazily over his wand.

"That being said, I do want to tell you how grateful I am for your concern of my well-being and because of my own personal reasons as well as your safety, I don't think it wise for us to travel together any longer."

Lyra turned her head towards him as she watched his eyes flicker with anger, the rest of his face impassive as he tried to contain himself.

"Your far too weak to travel by yourself...I think it wiser for me to-"

She cut him off and she shook her head. "As you said, I'm in need of rest and it will be a long time before I think I will be able to travel once more, I think it best you go on alone so I don't waste anymore of your time. I myself know how precious time can be."

Tom stood up as he grasped his wand tightly, taking a step towards her. His eyes caught her attention briefly, as a violent gleam of red flashed across them.

" _Good. Now I have his attention."_ she thought as she watched his face flush in anger.

"You agreed-" He started. Lyra raised her hand slowly as if to silence him.

"I know what we had agreed upon Mr. Riddle. But as I am not on retainer and there has been no monetary exchange, I am not obligated to fulfill it. Unfortunately, I have taken you as far as I can due to unforeseen circumstances. I can't endanger you or myself any longer."

He stared at Lyra with an expression she couldn't quite place, his eyes rigid and cold. His wand still grasped tightly in his hands.

"You-You actually think you could hurt _me_?" he sputtered out, his voice indignant and full of disdain. "You have NO idea of the power I possess, the things I could do to you if I wanted-"

" _Ah. There's that anger that lurks right beneath the surface. This is the real you Tom, the violent man behind the soft words and gentle disposition._ " She thought as she kept her demeanor calm and collected, staring up at him smugly. He was playing right into her hands.

"And you do not know what I am capable of Tom, nor do I...and that is exactly my dilemma." She said softly as she let out a sigh.

She looked towards his wand and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to kill me Tom?" She propped herself up on the bed slowly and stared at him, a look of amusement dancing in her eyes.

He stood before her seething, clenching his jaw tightly as he raised his wand towards her. The words he so desperately wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue.

" _It would only take a moment...a simple incantation and this could all be done and over with. You've done this before for lesser reasons. Show her what it is you are exactly capable of._ "

"Have you ever killed a person with your bare hands? Or have you always let your wand do your dirty work for you?" Lyra twirled her wand around her fingers as she looked up at him, a small grin tugging at the corners off her mouth.

Her words caught him off guard as he opened his mouth to reply.

"And why would I ever have to use my hands for such things?" he spoke vehemently.

" _She's testing you. Do not give in to her."_ He tried to collect himself as he lowered his wand slightly, his face still flushed and resentful.

"I thought you of all people would understand. Power."

He scoffed in anger and held his wand rigidly.

"Let me tell you this, it takes far more willpower to kill someone with your bare hands. You can see the fear in their eyes, you can feel their delicate bones underneath your hands and you can feel the life slip away from underneath you as they grow cold beneath your fingertips. You really have to _mean_ it…and when it is finished, you feel what it is you have done radiate through your entire body...because you and you alone did it."

She eyed him arrogantly as she continued.

"To me that is power. True unadulterated willpower."

He spoke softly as he eyed her from where she sat. Her eyes were defiant and ablaze with an emotion he recognized in himself, her hands trembling as she ran them through her hair excitedly, as if she were mad.

"I see no difference."

She looked down towards her own wand and held it loosely in her hand, tapping it gently against her outer thigh as she focused on him once more, her eyes staring into his.

"I understand ambition when I see it Tom and I would never condemn a person for how they went about achieving it. I know what it is you seek, it's not difficult for me to imagine why a wizard would travel this far and go through such lengths. I could feel the dark magic radiating off you from the moment we met. I don't have to pry into your affairs to know what it is you want. Your aura feels like death Mr. Riddle, I would know, it has been my bedfellow for quite some time now."

He lowered his wand again slightly as he spoke gently. "You know nothing of what I've done, what I have accomplished, what I desire..."

She spoke calmly as she looked behind him and out once more into the daylight. "I don't care what you have done. It makes no difference to me. I could only surmise what you've accomplished and I'm sure many would be jealous of your pervasive knowledge.. I myself have dabbled extensively in the dark arts and I understand the thirst for more."

He looked at her, still enraged at her bold words and with her decision to break their agreement.

"You see Tom I do not fear death, but I know that you won't kill me."

His jaw flexed as he stared at her coldly, his voice threatening as he closed the distance between them.

"There are other ways to get what I want." He quickly raised his wand once more as he stood before her, holding his wand under her chin, watching as he pressed it into the soft flesh of her throat.

Lyra let out another soft laugh as she continued to look into his eyes, daring him to act on his emotions.

"You could torture me, yes. I'm sure you'd enjoy that very much. But I can assure you Tom that I would never tell you anything and in my body's current state, I'm not so sure I wouldn't die before you even got anything useful from me."

He lowered his wand from her flesh hesitantly as he considered her words, realizing she was right.

" _Damn her._ "

Her eyes bore into his, her gaze confident and unwavering. Her blue eye shining brilliantly as her brown one flickered warmly against the light that reflected against it's dark surface.

"You won't hurt me because you know as well as I do that you still need me."

She stared up at him smugly as she stood slowly, placing herself before him. "However...I would be willing to rescind my withdrawal if you give me what I desire...but that of course is up to you."

"And what is it you desire?" he said as his eyes flickered from her strangely mismatched eyes to her lips before he looked away.

" _I know exactly what she wants. But if I tell her what it is I know, then I will never be able to hold this knowledge over her to force her to take me where I wish. But if I do not, then this trip may as well be wasted."_

Her voice interrupted his thoughts.

"You know what I want, Tom. I'll give you a few days to contemplate my proposal, until then your rooms will be paid for and your board kept. Now if you don't mind, I find myself craving the rest you keep telling me I need."

She turned away from him as she waved her hand carelessly, opening the door for him, signaling that their discussion was over.

He turned towards the door angrily as his mind raced.

"Wait." She said as she pointed her wand towards her desk, he watched as two small packages wrapped in brown paper floated towards him.

"What is this." he spoke indignantly, the expression on his face unreadable as he looked towards her.

"I'd almost forgotten…. I purchased these for you a few days ago before our little mishap."

He stared at the small parcels as they floated before him, unsure of why she had purchased him anything at all. He unwrapped the small white ribbon that held the paper together and stared in confusion as his eyes raked over the books that he now held in his hands.

" _Gifts…? But why?_ " His brow wrinkled in confusion as he continued to stare at the literature he had been given. His rage subsided as a strange feeling slowly replaced it, one he was unfamiliar with.

"Consider it as a thank you." Lyra said as she ran her hands through her hair once more, biting her lip as she tried to look away in unease. "You seem to enjoy reading as much as I do...so I thought that maybe-"

He stepped forward to leave the room as he paused and turned his head, his brown eyes staring in hers once more as he spoke gently.

"Moonstone dust."

She looked into his eyes once more, a puzzled expression on her face as she tried to understand what he had said.

"What-?"

"Moonstone dust would be far more effective than staghorn caps…" he trailed off as he turned his head once more and quickly left the room.

Lyra tilted her head in confusion, but he had left the room before she could even reply. Her eyes softened as she closed the door and wrapped her hands around herself, letting out a sigh of exhaustion.

* * *

 **So this was definitely a more interactive chapter, going forward in the story from this point on there will be a lot more conversation and interactions between the two of them. I predict I SHOULD be able to post another chapter soon as my job has now closed due to the worldwide pandemic of covid 19 going on. Nothing to do but write and write. Hopefully you guys enjoyed this chapter, I tried to keep tom in character...I do try to base his personality on more of the chamber of secrets Tom Riddle rather than the characteristics Lord Voldemort would have portrayed. He's still secretive and outwardly reserved, but I do think that he would OCCASIONALLY slip up when it comes to his true personality. Review, Follow & Fav! **


	18. Chapter 18

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

Tom ran his hand over the cover of the small book that he held in his hands.

" _Beasts & Creatures of North America."_ He let out a half laugh as he opened the book and flipped through the first few pages.

" _This might have proved useful a few days ago when I encountered that wendigo in the woods._ " He thought to himself dryly as he flipped through a few more chapters, eventually closing the book and raised his hands to rub his forehead in frustration. As he looked down he noticed a small piece of parchment that had fallen out from between the books pages. Opening it carefully, he looked at the small perfectly scripted handwriting that read:

 _Tom_

 _There is no friend you'll find that is quite as loyal as a book,_

 _but great literature doesn't always give up its secrets all at once._

 _Lyra_

He stared at the parchment once more before he placed it down on the table before him, tapping his index finger restlessly on the cover of the second piece of literature she had given him. It was slightly larger, but considerably weathered, the leather so old that instead of feeling supple and smooth under his fingers, it felt like wrinkled sandpaper. It was bound by a golden pendant, which resembled an upside down crescent moon, two circles attached on either side of its downward facing horns, the moon itself sat atop a large sword with three handles which intersected through its center.

" _Curious.._ " he thought as his finger traced the delicate ornament.

Tom unclipped the fastening and opened up to the first page, his brow furrowing in confusion as his eyes glanced over lines of strange runes he could not understand. He flipped through a few more pages delicately, as to preserve the integrity of the parchment, and frowned as he came to the realization that the whole book was written in a strange rune he did not understand. He closed the book in annoyance and placed it to the side.

Why had she given him these books? He had never received a gift in his entire life, aside from the occasional sweets and anonymous letters given to him by overeager female classmates of his. They were all the same and full of nonsense, declarations of admiration, love and useless babble. But this was different, these were given to him for seemingly no reason and he was confused. He was unsure of what he felt at the moment as he glanced once more at the small piece of parchment before him, his eyes tracing over Lyra's elegant handwriting as he picked it up once more. He stared at it apathetically as he thought of what had transpired earlier.

" _If I give her what she wants, then I'll have to continue to misapplicate my time here in this country, trailing her like a common dog, while she chases her fantasies. But...if I don't give into her demands, then I may as well leave with the small amount of information I've collected and this venture will have proved to be a waste._ "

He knew the magic and information he sought was well protected by the smaller communities that lay scattered across the continent and without someone who knew where to look and who to properly acquaint themselves with, it would remain outside his reach.

Tom slowly closed his hand, crumbling the piece of parchment within his fist and grabbed the first book she had given him, throwing his jacket on silently.

" _Sitting here will do nothing for me, I need fresh air. Maybe a change in scenery will clear my head, so I can contemplate what to do next._ "

Slowly opening the door and closing it behind him, he passed the entrance to Lyra's room quickly, trying to quell his rage and desire to open it and destroy everything that lay on the other side that had led to his muddled thoughts. He made his way down the creaky wooden stairs and past the small bar, where a few wizards and witches sat enjoying their meals and glasses of spirits.

The cool crisp air hit his face gently as he made his way out into the daylight, the sun's rays blinding his eyes as he started to walk down the busy square towards the woods, the small book gripped tightly in his hand at his side.

* * *

He had lay at the base of the large tree for what felt like hours, reading and pouring through pages of strange creatures and beasts he had never read or heard about before, until he finally landed on a page that held some interest to him. He sat up sharply as he focused his attention on the excerpt:

 **The Horned Serpent**

 _Although there are several species found worldwide, the most diverse and populated groups of Horned Serpent remain largely in North America, living in bodies of water, their natural habitat. Horned Serpents have large horns on either side of their head, hence their namesake and emit a low musical note to signal danger. They are extremely intelligent with large fierce eyes and their horns are used commonly in wand cores. Certain species are said to have a large jewel in their foreheads, rumored to possess and grant powers of healing, invisibility and flight, which led to many European and Asian wizards in past centuries to hunt them down for potion ingredients, almost resulting in their near extinction. The only remaining Jeweled Horned Serpents are said to be found in North America, with sightings reported far and few inbetween. It is a sacred and beloved creature, as one of the founding houses in Ilvermorny is named after a Horned Serpent who saved Isolt Sayre from certain death_.

Tom looked at the illustration of the beast as he tapped his finger on the page.

" _I wonder if this horned serpent is anything akin to the basilisk…_ "

He smirked as he thought back to the damage the basilisk had done after he had released it from the Chamber of Secrets.

" _I should think not perhaps. No basilisk would ever be revered as anything other than a deadly and evil beast. Death is it's only skill and purpose._ "

He glanced once more at the illustration and closed the book gently as he stood up. The sun was starting to slowly descend in the horizon and although he was tired, he could not muster up the motivation to leave the woods. The book had proven to be a great distraction, he had learned quite a bit about North America's habitat and the creatures that lurked around the wilderness, but it had done nothing to resolve the conflict and agitation in his mind. He started to walk further into the forest, trying to sort through his predicament.

He thought back once more to what had transpired between him and Lyra and felt anger at first, furious that she had threatened to break their agreement as a way to bend him to her will.

" _I won't give her what she wants just yet. Not until I've found a way to give myself an advantage..._ "

Thinking back to the rest of their conversation he felt another strange emotion dispel his anger. The way she had spoken, how she had admitted to committing atrocious acts, reveling in the power it had given her. He had watched her face as he threatened her life and pushed his wand against her flesh, yet she had shown no signs of fear or despair. Instead she had dismissed his actions and taunted him further.

" _You see Tom I do not fear death..._ "

" _Foolish girl._ " He thought to himself. " _To die is the ultimate weakness, it is far wiser to conquer death than embrace it. You think you understand everything, when in fact you know nothing."_

He snorted in disdain. No one understood his views on death and he was sure no one ever could. Only he had been skilled and determined enough to ensure his everlasting immortality and he did not feel obliged to share that with anyone. It was a secret that he alone must know.

Despite his anger and malevolence he felt towards her, he had also felt something else, something akin to respect. He never imagined he would encounter another who understood the dark arts as he did, embracing it instead of recoiling in fear. Someone else besides him who had opened up their mind and surrendered to the endless possibilities the darkness had to offer. She had spoken of her deeds brazenly and unapologetically to him, her eyes ablaze with hunger.

" _I know what it is you seek...I myself have dabbled extensively in the dark arts and I understand the thirst for more."_

 _He stared at her, murder in his eyes, but her words disarmed him briefly. For a moment he felt a slight tug of familiarity with the woman in front of him, as if he himself had spoken into an empty well and heard his own words echo back towards him._

It was perhaps this, coupled with her unexpected kindness and inadvertent vulnerability, that compelled him to divulge a better ingredient for her potion than what she had previously intended to use. He felt the words awkwardly tumble from his lips and he instantly felt the anger rise in his stomach as he realized what he had done.

As Tom was about to berate himself for his uncharacteristic behavior, he looked up to take in his surroundings, he had been so consumed in thought that he realized he had walked much farther than he had anticipated. The distant sound of rushing water nearby caught his ear as he spotted a small river in the distance, the sun reflecting a white glare off its crystal-like surface towards his oculus, as he shielded his eyes and walked slowly towards it.

As he stood on the bank, he knelt down and dipped his hand slowly into the small waves, the water cool and refreshing. He watched as the turquoise stream tumbled and rolled over the small rocks that lay at the rivers floor, each a different size and color. The water had an almost hypnotic-like quality, calming and gentle as he felt his agitation dissipate. Different kinds of trees lined the outer banks of the river, the soil wet and fragrant as it gave life to flora and fauna all around him. He closed his eyes as he took in the peaceful scene and leaned closer to the river, opening them slowly as he caught his reflection in the water staring back at him. A bright glint of gold caught his eye and he reached up towards his neck, taking the locket off from around his neck.

Holding it in his hands gently, he stared at the face of the locket blankly, rubbing his thumb over the multitude of green stones that were set into it. He felt the slow burn of his hatred rise as he thought about how many times the locket had changed hands before he had claimed what was rightfully his.

" _Bourke bought it apparently from a ragged looking woman who seemed to have stolen it but had no idea of it's value-"_

It was the only family heirloom he owned, a daily reminder of how he was the last remaining member of his bloodline. His insides burned as he recalled how his mother was described to him. He was ashamed of how pitifully weak she had been, how she had failed as both a mother and a witch, choosing death over her son.

"Open." he spoke firm and deliberately in parseltongue and waited as he heard a small click come from the locket. He opened it and stared into the empty contents absentmindedly.

A soft thrumming rang in his ears as his concentration broke, listening as the noise grew closer, the hum getting louder with every passing second as he felt his body tense up. He watched the water before him move unnaturally as he grasped his wand and stood up quickly.

Before he could react, a large creature burst from the water before him and stood erect, its long serpent-like body poised and ready as the daylight radiated brilliantly off its blue and purple scales. Tom glanced at the large creature before him, his eyes scaling over the immense snake like body, until they rested on a pair of two large horns that lay attached to each side of it's head, with two slitted yellow eyes that stared back at him curiously. A gem the size of a chicken egg was embedded on its forehead, the sunlight gleaming off its brilliant surface.

It thrummed deeply once more as it lowered its body and tremendous head, its cerulean head now eye level with his.

" _A horned serpent...could this be possible?"_ Tom thought as he lowered his wand slowly and stepped closer to the large reptilian creature, its large yellow eyes fixed on him.

He spoke softly in parseltongue as he approached. "Why are you here?"

The serpent opened its mouth as its forked tongue flicked in and out restlessly, its voice a deep hiss. "It iss not often one hearss the language of itss ancestorss sspoken by man. How iss it you sspeak our language…"

"A gift perhaps, passed down by my own ancestors, I have spoken and understood it since I was a child." Tom said gently as he stared at the creature curiously.

"I had to ssee for myself who had spoken the wordss…" the horned serpent continued. "It has been many yearss ssince your kind has spoken with uss. We thought it mostly a legend…"

"We?" he said curiously as he cocked his head at the serpent's words.

"There are otherss." the creature continued as he turned his head, focusing a large yellow eye on Tom. "But we conceal ourselvess from those we do not trust, many would hunt uss for their own personal gain.." It's enormous eye flicked upwards towards the gem on his forehead.

Tom narrowed his eyes as his eyes glanced up at the serpent's stone. "Your gem. Horned serpent's gems are rumored to have many powers...Is that true?"

The large beast blinked at him before answering. "Yess, but that dependss on how it iss used."

"What kinds of powers ?" He asked eagerly as he twirled his wand in between his fingers.

The horned serpent narrowed his eyes at Tom and thought for a moment before answering. "It iss said that powerss of invisibility and flight may be granted if harnessed properly...but I myself have never seen such thingss accomplished. But the gemss do possess healing qualitiess above all else."

"How would you know that?"

The snake sniffed indignantly as he rose above Tom. "My kind has lived for centuriess, it would not have been possible without our gemss. They heal our woundss, our ailmentss, they do not prevent our death, but they allow uss to live unscathed, unharmed by those who try to cause uss harm."

Tom looked at the serpent arrogantly as he spoke in parseltongue once more. "How do I know that what you say is true?"

"You must see for yourself if you do not believe me." The serpent bowed his head down and moved closer towards him, it's tongue steadily flicking out of its mouth while it motioned towards the necklace that still lay in his hand.

"The locket?" Tom said as he looked down towards the glimmering piece of jewelry in his hand. "It's just an heirloom, there's nothing inside."

"Nothing inside, but the outside iss another matter entirely."

He looked down towards the locket as he ran his hands over the stones that encompassed it's sleek golden face. "These stones...are these made from a horned serpents gem?"

He thought back to when he had first laid eyes on the old heirloom, in old Hepzibah Smith's drawing room, trying to recall what she had said.

 _"Pretty isn't it? And again, all kinds of powers attributed to it, though I just keep it nice and safe…_ "

His mind raced back to when he had first absentmindedly placed the locket around his neck, watching in the mirror as his vitality and handsome looks were restored instantly _. "Could the horned serpents gem be responsible for fixing my appearance and not the locket itself?"_

The creature looked at him blankly and bowed its head.

"How are these to work in their condition? Would they not be more effective as a whole?"

"It makess no difference. A gem iss still the same, whether whole or ssplit."

Tom looked at the stones greedily as they sparkled in the sunlight. "How can I be sure they'll work?"

The horned serpent looked towards the water longingly and turned its head lazily towards Tom once more, it's tongue flickering impatiently. "You are full of questionss and I grow tired. Iss there no one you wish to help to test the gemss strength? Many are sick, many become ill..."

Tom looked up towards the creature and scoffed. "Why would I waste them on another?"

The serpent shook its immense head disapprovingly and slithered slowly back into the water. "How will you know if you do not?"

He stared at the beast as the water started to swallow it's tremendous body, slowly disguising it beneath the water.

"Farewell young parselmouth. I do not think we shall meet again, nor do I think I shall ever meet another wizard who speakss my tongue. It hass been quite an experience…"

Tom nodded as he watched the horned serpents head disappear under the water and fade away until it had all but vanished. He stared at the locket in his hands once more as the sun started to descend into the sky, casting a purple and pink tapestry across the horizon. He thought back to the horned serpents words as he slowly pulled the locket over his head and tucked it neatly into his shirt.

" _If what the serpent said was true, then the gems hold an inconceivable amount of value. But how to test them? How will I know the extent of their capabilities?"_

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as a cunning thought crossed his mind.

" _Lyra. I wonder if I were to use one of the gems in a potion, if it will heal and keep her affliction at bay? This is how I may gain my advantage._ "

He would tell her exactly what she wanted to know to ensure she kept her end of their agreement, but if he could brew a potion that would not only heal her wounds, but keep her "condition" under control, she would have no choice but to depend on him for her own well-being. Under these circumstances he would demand she give him full control over where they travelled to in North America.

" _I always get what I desire. One way or another..._ " he thought to himself smugly as he pulled his wand out.

* * *

 **This chapter took me A LONG time to figure out, especially since we have such little information about North American beasts and creatures, as well as a lack of writing on how Tom riddle really reacts to things. I myself think Tom is an INTJ type personality and would think and over analyze things before he acted on them, remember he's not quite Voldemort yet. I'm treating them as two separate entities here, Tom Riddle does not disappear until Voldemort makes his re-entrance to the world. That being said, I'm trying hard to not place him OOC. There's a lot of speculation online and in forums that the gems in the locket belonged to a Horned Serpent, so i decided to try to work that into the story, it makes sense. Horned serpents not being basilisks, I decided to give them more of a wise and level headed personality, placing them in more of a gray area. Tom definitely would have been able to speak with them as he is a parselmouth and I couldn't imagine him being in North America and not coming across one of them at all. That being said, review , follow and fav if you like it! More chapters coming soon**!


	19. Chapter 19

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

"Three sprigs of lavender...crushed…" Lyra said as she tipped the clippings of herbs she had prepared off the cutting board and into the simmering cauldron next to her. she scribbled once more on the parchment to mark what she had done.

She read aloud her notes, ensuring what she had written was legible and easy to understand in case she had a need for more in the future. "Crushing the lavender, rather than roughly chopping it, will allow the herbs to steep and break down more easily into the potion."

Pausing momentarily before she picked up the next ingredient, she ran her thumb down the page to make another amendment. Looking to her right she picked up a glass vial labeled 'Flobberworm Mucus' and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"One blob of Flubberworm Mucus...and stir counterclockwise three times.."

She continued to read as she followed the potions directions, frowning as she read the next line.

 _Simmer for two hours._

Sighing as she rubbed her abdomen, she looked down to the last note she had written. She had scribbled out the last ingredient-Staghorn Caps-and traced her fingers over what she had neatly written next to it.

"Moonstone dust…" she whispered gently as she crossed her arms and furrowed her brow.

" _Why should you even trust anything he says? For all you know it could be a ruse to prevent all of this from working._ "

She rubbed her arms as she sat gently in the wooden chair beside her. " _His advice seemed genuine and he was definitely angry when I threatened to part ways with him. I know he needs my help to do whatever it is he's here for...leading me astray would be counterproductive…._ "

A small voice in her head continued to argue with her. " _Only moments before he held a wand to your throat. Be careful of whom you trust, you've been betrayed before._ "

"This is a risk I'm willing to take." she murmured softly as she tucked a stray strand of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear. She understood the properties and merits of moonstone dust and she knew his advice could prove more fruitful results if added correctly. If he had meant to alter what she had been trying to accomplish there were far riskier and more dangerous ingredients he could have suggested.

She thought back to their unpleasant conversation earlier, she had been so preoccupied with her task at hand she had pushed the event far from her mind and upon revisiting it, she felt her stomach drop slightly. As to why, she was uncertain for many reasons. Part of her had hoped, although she had known better, that he would divulge to her the information she so desperately needed without conflict or resistance. The other part of her wished that he had ended her miserable suffering quickly, letting his anger and hostility take control as he had most likely wanted to do. A small fraction of her even wished that he would have at least made her experience pain, even if only just a little, to make her feel some kind of penance for the atrocities she had committed.

She laughed to herself bitterly.

" _This is my atonement, perhaps. To live my life as if I were already dead, a walking corpse who's every moment is a hell on earth. How befitting._ "

Lyra glanced out the small window of her room and waited for tears she knew that would never come. It had been a long time since she had experienced such emotions that came naturally to others and she wondered if she would ever be able to feel them again. Happiness had turned into sadness, which had led to anger that over time had resulted in a body numbing apathy.

Sharp stabs of pain snapped her from her thoughts as she ran her hands tenderly over her stomach. She rubbed her hands softly across the fabric of her nightdress and gently lifted it up towards her chest, exposing the raised red and angry wounds that lay across her abdomen. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead as she gently grazed her fingertips across the swollen and throbbing gashes.

" _These wounds are infected. If I don't clean them thoroughly and apply a healing salve, they'll only get worse._ "

She stood up carefully from her seat and held her hand out towards her large wooden cabinet as she recited a summoning spell quickly, holding her hand out in anticipation. A small star shaped tin flew into her outstretched palm as she made her way back over towards the water basin. Waving her hand over the basin she watched as it filled with hot water, the swirls of steam rising from the bowl as she looked around for a clean cloth.

She swore under her breath softly as she realized that all the towels in her quarters were all still thrown into a pile, blood stained and soiled from the few nights prior. Waving her hand in a delicate motion, she watched as they lifted up until off the floor.

"Scourgify!"

The stains and blood slowly started to disappear from the towels and as she muttered another incantation, they started to fold themselves neatly next to her. She picked a newly clean cloth from off of the pile and dipped it into the hot water, pulling it out carefully and wringing it with her hands before pressing it to her stomach, cleaning and washing the healing wounds. Returning the cloth to the bowl, she reached for the small tin beside the basin and uncapped it, revealing a paste like substance. Scooping a generous amount between her fingers she gently applied it to her skin, spreading the salve over the burning and sore marks.

" _You did this to yourself, you know."_ She thought as she placed the lid back onto the container and pulled her nightdress down slowly. " _He wasn't lying when he told you that you still needed rest...and as a result of your own stubbornness your wounds may take longer to heal._ "

She bit her lip as she looked once more to the potion she had brewing on her hearth. " _What other choice did I have? It's only a matter of time before the darkness takes over once more._ "

" _You didn't have to save him from that wendigo. You had warned him about the woods. It was no one's fault but his own that put him in that situation, and as a result of your own stupidity you were wounded in the process and most likely revealed your affliction, which should have remained secret, to a stranger!"_

Her eyes stared into the fire below the cauldron. " _I couldn't let him die. Despite the things I've done, the evil I've committed, if I can still try to do some good then maybe all is not lost just yet._ "

Lyra made her way over towards the bed as she lay down carefully, staring up at the blank white ceiling above her as she closed her eyes.

" _What's done is done. Soon the potion will be ready for the last ingredient and if every goes correctly in a few days of brewing it will be ready for consumption. I hope this works...if it doesn't I don't know what my next move will be, I've already exhausted all of my options here._ "

Her eyes caught a flash of silver as her bracelet dangled out from underneath her night dress. She pulled her sleeve back as she watched the light dance and gleam off its smooth antiqued finish, the scattered clear stones that adorned it shining back at her brilliantly. Holding her arm above her head she slipped two fingers behind the dangling face of the bracelet, rubbing it slowly with her thumb.

" _I feel so lost. I've always prided myself on being one step ahead of everything that was thrown my way...But now I feel as if I'm scrambling alone in the dark, trying to gather bits and pieces of things that don't make any sense. What am I missing? Where do I go from here?_ "

A blanket of anguish crept over her as she continued to stare at the burnished piece of jewelry, feeling the weight of it all rise up through her stomach and spread over her body like a thick woolen sheet. She closed her eyes and held her breath as she waited, quietly, for her despair to consume her like a wild beast.

* * *

The sun had begun to set as Lyra stood before the cauldron once more stirring it as her hand hesitantly grasped the last vial on the table which held the final ingredient. The contents of the small vial shone brilliantly, milky and luminescent, as if she had captured all the stars in the sky and trapped them inside the glass.

She pulled the cork stopper out slowly, so as not to spill any of the dust and held it eagerly over the boiling cauldron.

" _I don't have much moonstone dust left and Tom didn't specify how much to use...I need to be careful...if I use too much the consequences could be catastrophic. I'll start with one sprinkle. The potion should continue to maintain a purple hue...If anything changes I know I'll have added too much._ "

Carefully scattering the small allotment of moonstone dust she required, she started to stir the potion several times slowly in a clockwise motion and flicked her wand gracefully towards the flame underneath, reducing the conflagration to a steady simmer. Lyra watched anxiously as the potion bubbled and turned a variety of shades as the moonstone dust melded with the other ingredients and let out a sigh of relief as the color eventually settled into a perfect shade of lilac.

" _Well then...everything seems to be correct so far. I suppose the only way to find out is in a few days when the potion-_ "

Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard soft footsteps outside her door. Turning her head quickly around in anticipation, she watched as they stopped, the shadow of a figure blocked the light from the dimly lit hallway that would resonate into her chambers. She held her breath as she waited, the figure standing still for a moment before stepping away, the steps continuing down the hallway and away from her door.

" _Tom._ " she thought to herself as she felt her stomach drop once more. She had held her breath in the hopes he had decided to give in to her demands. " _I had hoped he would have given in by now…_ "

She shook her head and ran her hands through her hair.

" _Patience._ " she reassured herself. " _You know the kind of man you're dealing with...and you've placed him in a corner. He wasn't exactly thrilled by the cards you played. He's not going to tell you anything until he feels like he has the upper hand. Be prepared for whatever he throws at you, nothing comes without a price..._ "

Lyra looked up, distracted, catching a glimpse of her bedraggled appearance in the ornate mirror opposite her. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and berated herself for her slovenly countanounce. " _You may be in pain, but that's no excuse for you to look a mess. A hot bath would better your wounds and help clear your mind._ "

She crossed the room and into the large bathroom, slowly disrobing as she carefully placed her feet into the deep stone tub. The water was still temperate and warm and felt wonderful as she slid her legs further into it. Hesitating for a moment, she slowly eased the rest of her body into the water, holding her breath and clenching her eyes in pain as the water clawed and bit at her stomach. Her breath came out in long ragged gasps as her body slowly became acclimated to the water.

" _Take it easy Lyra, you can do this._ "

Grabbing a sponge, she made her way over the various spouts of shapes and sizes that sat upon the side of the tub and picked a small golden faucet, turning it's handle as it dispensed a fragrant soap with a light pink hue. She gently lathered the soap through her long dark hair and onto her body, taking care to be extra delicate around her lacerations. Once she finished, she placed the sponge aside and delicately held her fingers to her nose, holding in a deep breath as she submerged her head underwater, clearing all the bubbles and suds from her figure. Resurfacing from the water calmly, she raised her hands to pull her hair back from her face, which ran down her shoulders like black ink, while wiping the water from her eyes.

" _That feels better…_ " she thought as she floated to the other side of the tub, wringing her hair and fixing most of it up atop her head in a large knot, while she felt the small beads of water dripping off the shorter tendrils that still clung to her face.

She lay there against the side of the tub for a while, contemplative, as she felt the warm steam of the water rise against her body, her fingers tapping the cool stone as she thought of her interaction with Tom once more.

 _She watched as he lowered his wand and spoke in a gentle voice. "You know nothing of what I've done. What I've accomplished, what I desire..."_

 _She could only surmise what he had done years, months, days prior to their meeting. She had not lied when she told him he felt like death, for she knew that dark magic not only left physical traces behind but also intangible indications as well. The moment they had met, she had felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge as if to warn her about the man who had entered her presence. Soft spoken and well mannered, Tom seemed to be anything but dangerous and violent tempered at first glance, but her instincts had told her otherwise._

" _A wolf in sheep's clothing…" she had thought as he sat opposite her in her tiny quarters in New York, sipping on wine and eyeing her hungrily as if she were prey he intended to devour. Her sneakoscope had gone wild and although she had never much heeded it's warnings and alarms before, they could easily just as well go off for less serious reasons, she knew this time had been different. But still, the man before her had caught her attention and something about him had piqued her interest._

Lyra cursed once more under her breath softly. "Damned your curiosity."

The idea that now she relied on another to help her with what she had tried so grievously to hide for years unsettled her. She tried to abate her fears by reassuring herself that although Tom had witnessed something he should not have, he would not report her to any faction of the wizarding world.

" _As he's not applied for any wand permit, I should safely assume that anything he intends to learn here is strictly off the record._ _That would fit perfectly well with why he needs me so badly. Any knowledge that wouldn't be forbidden he could have easily had access to, it's the old and darker type of magic he's after...but why?_ "

She laughed softly and shook her head. " _Does it really matter to you what he's after? Even if it was for some dark malevolent purpose, would you have rebuffed his request?_ "

"No." Lyra said softly, responding aloud to the question her mind had asked her.

" _There's something about him that felt familiar to me. I don't understand why...I thought maybe perhaps it had to do with that silly dream I've had since I was a child, but not once has there ever been a man or another person to appear to me...only a feeling…_ "

" _...and a serpent._ "

Lyra snorted cynically. " _Oh yes... and a talking snake at that. How ridiculous. You know better than to make life decisions based off of stupid dreams and visions. It's all nonsense. You've known this since before you ever stepped foot into Ilvermorny, how foolish it was to ignore your common sense and especially during times like these! Taking up company with a man you barely know because you felt there was something FAMILIAR about him…"_

She shook her head once more as she grew angry at her own folly, standing up slowly and carefully climbing out of the bath. Summoning her wand, she pointed it carefully at herself and gave it a complicated wave as hot air blew out from the tip. Once she had been dried thoroughly, she grabbed her dress and painstakingly pulled it over her body.

A thought struck her as she started to leave the bathroom and she paused, leaning her body against the frame of the doorway. " _Perhaps you saw something in Tom that reminded you of yourself and that's where the feelings of familiarity came from._ "

" _No. We are nothing alike.._. _I have reasons for all of my actions. I have not done what I needed to do for self-gain but out of necessity."_ Lyra angrily strode over to the mirror, taking her hair down and combing it roughly as she continued to think.

" _Not everything you've done has been out of necessity. A normal person would have confided in those who might have been able to help, like professional healers. You instead took a different route, you took matters into your own hands and dove deeper into old magic, forbidden magic to get what you wanted. Out of your own arrogance and feelings of self-importance you've damned yourself and your very soul. You are not so different from him."_

She bit her lip as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Two mismatched eyes stared back at her, wild and unnatural, below them faint scars from yet another failed venture and her cheeks, once rosy and bright, had begun to take on a hollow and dull appearance. The dark magic she had put her faith in had taken their toll on her looks.

" _You enjoy pushing those boundaries of magic just as much as he claims to._ "

Her cheeks began to flush as she remembered how she had divulged in detail to him of how it felt to take another's life. She had berated him for using his wand rather than his hands, done partially in an attempt to goad him into ending her miserable suffering, but also to get out of him what she had suspected all along. That he, as well as her, had blood on his hands.

" _I see no difference._ "

 _He had said it softly and so unapologetically. He had not recoiled in disgust or looked at her any differently and had not tried to hide his lack of remorse. It had only reassured her suspicions and for some unknown reason to herself, it muddled her opinion of him even further._

Lyra sat down slowly into her old wooden chair once more, absentmindedly watching the fire in the hearth, dancing and licking away at the bottom of the cauldron.

" _I've never told anyone the things I have done, I've fought so hard to keep them a secret. I've removed myself from society, I wear cloaks to disguise my appearance...I've hidden myself to most of the world...But why is it I admit to a man, who I barely know, some of my most intimate feelings and experiences? Why is it I find myself disarmed and reckless around him? It's unlike me._ "

She sat and tried to produce a reasonable answer, but could come up with none. There was no valid reason to justify her actions or thoughts and she finally decided to relinquish her inquisition and blame it on her ill-health. The time was growing late and her body was weary. She made her way over to the bed and lay down, gingerly pulling the sheets over her body as she traced the ceiling with her eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

* * *

 **Long chapter from Lyra's POV. Really trying hard to NOT have her be a mary sue. She's not perfect and she makes mistakes like everyone else. Not really much to say as I've already started the next chapter, lots of Tom in it so no worries there! Hope you enjoyed, please review, follow & fav!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

The minutes had turned into hours, that had stretched on for days as he sat hunched over the wooden table in his small quarters sifting through various pieces of parchment and notes. He tapped his quill against the walnut colored wood of the desk as he rubbed his finger over his bottom lip, lost in thought. The locket lay before him, golden and gleaming as the glow of the light danced across its surface. It's face was smooth and elegant, the only imperfection was a missing stone from the bottom of a perfectly formed "S" emblazoned in emerald like jewels.

Getting the jewel out of its setting had been the easy part, it was old and delicate, so he took great care in it's removal and preservation, but figuring out now how to harness and use its power was another. He picked up the small green jewel and held it between his fingers as he stared at it intently.

" _All the passages on Horned Serpents jewels I had read only describe the possibilities and powers attributed to the stones. None go into detail on how to add it to a potion or how it should be handled, nor did the creature itself tell me how to use it._ "

He furrowed his brows as he placed the gem down gingerly onto the table. If there was one thing he despised more than anything else in the world, it was a lack of knowledge and blind assumptions.

" _Every book has been redundant and uninformative. There are only small mentions and nods to how powerful the stones could be and how rare it is to come across one...all folklore and old wives tales. If there's ever been a potion or spell in existence that called for a horned serpents jewel, it doesn't exist anymore. I've spent days on researching its properties and I've gotten little to no answers."_

Tom continued to stare at the gem as his agitated mind had settled on a decision. " _I have no other choice than to treat the jewel as if it were any other other stone or hard ingredient. It must be ground into a fine dust before being added to a potion. That should allow it to at least blend properly. Of the other circumstances I am still unsure, how to stir it in properly and the brew time most specifically. I mustn't waste a single grain of dust on improperly thought out scenarios._ "

Thinking back to properties of certain stones, metals and gems he had used in other potions and draughts, he tried to remember exactly which had been used in elixirs and what the instructions had been. He wrote down the few that sprang to his mind.

"Pearls...Silver...Moonstones…"

He paused at the last ingredient and tapped his quill on the parchment.

" _Moonstone. I wonder how far along Lyra has come brewing her potion?_ "

It had been three days since he had returned from the woods. After apparating into the small alleyway beside the inn, he had entered and made his way up the creaky wooden staircase, lost in thoughts over his newfound knowledge and found himself pausing at the entrance to her room. He had heard her on the other side, scurrying around like an animal, the sound of clinking glasses and the soft patter of her feet against the floor as she brewed her hopeful potion. He had only paused momentarily but he heard the noise on the other side of the door grow silent as he lingered.

He smiled at the absence of noise and he could imagine her, standing in her room in fevered anticipation, waiting for him ro rush in and concede to her. But he would not...not yet anyway. He would try her patience for a few painstaking days before he himself was ready and the idea of her anxiety set him on fire.

No one would ever force him to bend to their will.

In the days to come, he had come to realize in order for his plan to work, her potion needed to fail, for what good would his jewel be without her need for it? He did not have the ingredients at his disposal to brew a new potion for her, or the time. He would need to add the gem to the draught she had brewed after completion, after it had failed. He cursed himself silently for his momentary weakness in suggesting a better potion ingredient than the one she had intended to use.

" _Staghorn caps would have proved a complete failure, especially in her advanced state. I can only hope that whatever it is that ails her is too strong for moonstone as well…_ "

He bowed his head slightly in reassurance. " _I've seen with my own eyes the -thing- she becomes. Moonstone is strong...but it will not stop her. There may be no ingredient that could help her but this..."_

Tom looked at the stone as his thoughts trailed off, taking his eyes off it quickly as they scanned the parchment before him. His musings had distracted him from his focus and he continued to contemplate how to mix the jewel in properly.

" _Most times the stone or gem is the final ingredient added, being stirred in either clockwise or counterclockwise depending on what it is you're trying to achieve. If it is a potion that is trying to achieve something permissive you would stir clockwise anywhere from three to seven times. If it is a preventative potion then one would stir counterclockwise with anywhere from two to six strokes...If I were to add this to a draught to prevent harm from coming to the drinker I would need to stir counterclockwise for at the very least 4 strokes…_ "

He half smiled and wrote his notes furiously down on a fresh piece of parchment, confident with his decision. He dipped his quill back into the ink quickly and tried to determine how long the Horned Serpent jewel would take to adhere to the potion. It was a grueling and meticulous process, but he enjoyed the challenge. He had always been extremely adept at potions and was quite successful at creating a few new ones himself.

" _When I placed the necklace on myself for the first time, it almost immediately restored my appearance. The fragment of the jewel I'll be using in the potion is minimal, but when ingested it should become effective quickly if not immediately. The brewing time should only be at most one hour, with the first dose administered right away."_

His long pale fingers grasped the quill as its tip scratched violently against the parchment, recording last of his notes down. Placing the quill down gently aside his inkwell, he raised his wand and gave it a small flick. A small glass vial appeared in his hand as he placed it gently onto the table.

" _Now all that's left is to turn the jewel to a fine dust._ " He thought as he pointed his wand towards the small gem, it rising slowly up off the table and hovering effortlessly above the small glass jar.

"Pulveo." Tom said softly as he watched the small jewel deconstruct and pour into the vial, like sand in an hourglass.

Once the jewel had completely disintegrated, he held the small vial up to his face, the green powder sparkling and shining brilliantly from behind the glass as the light danced across it. Grabbing a cork he quickly placed it atop the small phial, so as to not spill any of the contents, and set it down gingerly upon the table.

" _The hardest part is over._ "

He pushed the chair back from the table and leaned back as he raised his head towards the ceiling, crossing his arms behind his head. He was feeling particularly illustrious as he thought about everything he had accomplished and the great fortune that had befallen him while he had wandered the forest.

" _By this time tomorrow, if everything goes according to plan, I'll have exactly what I want._ " He thought to himself as he closed his eyes.

His eyes had only been closed for a moment when a large crash could be heard through the thick stone walls of his chamber, followed by a scream and a series of what sounded like glasses smashing and hitting the floor.

His eyes jerked open as he stood up quickly, grabbing his wand and racing towards the door to see what had caused the noise. Pausing momentarily, he glanced back towards the green vial and the locket on the table as his mind and mouth spoke the same word.

"Lyra."

Tom quickly grabbed the vial and stuffed it into his pocket, while tossing the locket into his open suitcase, closing it hastily and locking it with a flick of his wand. He turned around and quickly opened the door to find, to his dismay, that he was not the only one who had heard the noise, a few of the other guests who had rooms on the same floor had opened the doors to their chambers and were standing halfway into the hall, rubbing their eyes and mumbling as they stared in confusion.

"What's all this racket then?" A plump witch said angrily from the door closest to his as she made her way out into the hallway, her sleeping dress entirely too tight for her large body, the striped yellow and red pattern making her look like a large overstuffed couch.

Another wizard, elderly and thin looked out from his doorway a little further on down the hall, a long nightcap dragging the floor behind him as he grumbled "We're trying to sleep!"

Tom closed his door quietly behind him and tried to placate the guests as he motioned towards Lyra's door, his voice soft and reassuring.

"I'm so sorry if my friend disturbed you, you see she's got a terrible case of levitation sickness and she's probably just fallen out of bed. She's been quite ill all day, I was just about to go and check on her."

The overweight witch, whose demeanour had immediately changed as she observed how handsome he was, smoothed out her appallingly tight nightdress and spoke in a sweeter and kinder tone. Tom watched as the flesh that hung from her large arms jiggled and slapped against her sides. He thought of Hepzibah Smith once more as he tried to keep the look of repulsion from his face.

"Oh it's no problem at all. Yes, you must check in on your friend, what a kind man you are! Well, if you need anything dear don't hesitate to ask!"

He looked back towards Lyra's door as he tried to encourage the woman back inside her quarters. "Thank you so much for your kindness, now if I may-"

"Of course, of course! Back to bed I go, it's very late you know! And you best mind your business too!", She said as she pointed at the old wizard down the hall as he grumbled and shut the door behind him, disappearing inside his room.

"Goodnight dear." She said as Tom nodded towards her, watching a rosy blush creep up her wobbling cheeks as she finally entered her room and closed the door behind her.

He turned immediately towards Lyra's chambers, his wand held firmly in his hand as he flicked it towards the door, unsure of what he would find.

* * *

Lyra stared at a small glass vial in her hand as she tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, and placed it back into her wooden cabinet, scrawling small notes upon a small parchment as she wrote down which of her stores needed replenishing and where she could find them.

" _Leeches…pearl dust...bat wings...There's so much I need to restock, this will take weeks!_ " She thought as she scribbled furiously.

Her ventures in Salem had dwindled her stores and she knew it was unwise to keep traveling in her condition without a fully stocked ingredient cabinet. She closed the door carefully and walked over to the small wooden table next to the hearth and started to pile the various books and parchments she had been reading into organized stacks and took out her wand, gracefully flicking it into the air as she watched the various assortment of literature float and disappear into the small purse in which her whole life resided.

It had been days since she had last seen Tom and she was unsure if he would ever come. Her stomach sank as she continued to tidy her room and return everything to its proper place.

" _With or without him, I need to move on. I can't continue to waste my time here when there are more pressing matters to attend to. My stomach isn't completely healed but if I travel slowly I'll be able to manage. The potion is almost complete and by tomorrow I'll hopefully be able to take my first dose and resume my travels without worry._ "

She felt a sharp pain race through her head and she brought her hands up to her face to rub her temples. As the pain slowly subsided, it fell into a dull rhythmic throbbing and she closed her eyes to try to ease the aches.

" _I need to lay down._ " Lya thought to herself as she made her way over to the small bed and gently sat down. " _This must be a result of all the stress I've been under for the past weeks._ "

As she lay back into the bed she felt a bitter disappointment resonate through her body. " _Tom never came..I really thought he would, maybe not a first, but at least by now..._ "

She turned her head to the side in anger and opened her eyes, the dull pounding in her head growing louder. " _It doesn't matter. I'm leaving tomorrow and we'll part ways permanently. It's for the best anyway, you know that Lyra._ "

Ignoring her better judgment, she got up from bed quickly and hastily waved her hand, ignoring the blinding pain in her head that was growing stronger. She watched as all her scattered belongings flew into the small opened purse on the wooden table, all except the cauldron, still brewing on the hearth and her large wooden cabinet.

" _I'll leave immediately at daybreak tomorrow. Best to get everything prepared._ "

Her vision started to blur as the pain from her head suddenly exploded. Reaching out towards anything she could find to steady herself on, her hands fell onto the small wooden chair before her and she scrambled to lean her weight against it.

The hairs on the back of her neck began to stand on edge as she knew all too well what to follow.

"Not here…" She said through clenched teeth as she scrambled over towards her cauldron.

" _It's not ready yet, but maybe it will work! I can't lose control tonight, not when I was so close!_ "

Her vision started to fade as her hands shakily poured some of the homenum hobis potion into a small glass and brought it unsteadily up to her lips. She felt it slide down her throat and into her stomach, waiting for the relief. But it did not come.

A sharp knife-like pain stabbed up her spine as she dropped the glass on the floor and toppled over towards the wooden cabinet. As she fell into the large oak depository, the doors swung open as vials and glasses jars spilled out from within, falling and smashing onto the hard wooden floor. It lurched and groaned as it slowly tipped over, falling to the floor with a loud crash. Lyra quickly moved out of the way as she tried to control herself, feeling her body sear with pain and clutching at her face. She tried to bite her lip to prevent her from crying out in agony, but it was no use. The world slowly started to fade out of sight and as the last spasm took a hold of her body, she let out a blood curdling scream.

* * *

Tom pointed his wand towards the door and flicked it hastily, casting a silent spell and watched as the door flung open. He entered Lyra's chambers cautiously and closed it quickly behind him, not wanting to attract any more attention to them then she already had.

"Muffliato." He whispered as he aimed his wand towards the door to prevent anyone from hearing any other noises that might escape the room.

"Lyra?" he spoke softly as he took another step, the candles were burning low, leaving little light to illuminate the room. His eyes surveyed the damage as they raked over the broken shards of glass and scattered potion ingredients on the floor, finally resting on the wooden cabinet that had toppled and fallen over. He heard a small whimper and held his wand up.

"Lumos."

He saw the outline of her figure huddled in the corner of the room, her breathing slow and ragged.

"Lyra…are you alright? You've woken up half the floor." He spoke gently as he stepped toward her, but paused when he realized what had happened. She had once more transformed into the horrifying creature he had seen in the woods, old, rotting and decrepit. He took a step back as it lifted its head up slowly towards his, its eyes as black as night, it's face more gruesome than that of the foulest corpse.

The ghastly figure stood slowly, Tom heard the sounds of it's bones stiffening and cracking as it straightened it's mangled back, Lyra was gone. The smell of rotting flesh his nose as it raised a clawed and bloody hand towards him, the leathery skin wrinkled and discolored. The creature let out a gurgled scream as it snapped it's jaws and lunged at him.

He jabbed his wand towards the creature quickly as he muttered an incantation to freeze it in place. Looks had deceived him though, and as it dodged his spell he realized it was faster than he anticipated. Moving its attention from Tom, it looked to the small window in the room that Lyra must have opened earlier and bolted towards it in an effort to get away from him.

" _It's trying to get away._ " He thought to himself as he acted quickly.

Aiming his wand towards the window, he shouted "Colloportus!" The window shut and locked itself instantly as he pointed his wand once more at the trapped creature who let out another pitious noise. It focused it's black, ink like eyes on him, enraged, and ran towards where he stood, bloody skeleton-like claws outstretched. He cast a quick hex in its direction and watched as the creature recoiled in pain.

" _I must take care not to grievously harm whatever it is, it could harm Lyra in the process. But I wonder..._ "

As the decrepit figure made its way toward him once more, he quickly murmured another spell and sent it directly at the decomposing mass of flesh and bone.

"Volneratio!"

The wraith-like creature howled in pain as it held it's lacerated arm, trying to stem the wounds that Tom had inflicted upon it.

" _I need to end this now._ " He thought as he recalled what he had done in the woods to end her transformation after they had encountered the wendigo, and focused his wand towards her.

"Somnius!"

She fell to the floor instantly, the ragged breaths and unearthly sounds growing silent in the passing minutes as he watched the creature slowly change. It's white hair turned pitch black, as its skin and features tightened and turned soft, pale and rosy once more, the face familiar and beautiful as Lyra returned to herself and lay unconscious on the ground.

* * *

 **Woof. Took me a while to write this chappie, foremost I hope everyone is safe and sound in their homes and no one reading is sick from this crazy virus infecting the world. Now as to this chapter I did invent a few spells, most of them were derived from Latin, as most of the original spells were. Here's a breakdown of what they mean or where they are derived from:**

 **Pulveo: (derived from pulvis) to grind or to make flour/dust**

 **Volneratio: to wound**

 **Somnius: (derived from somnium) means "to sleep"**

 **Also, to all of those who do not practice magic or are not familiar with witchcraft, there are reasons as to why potions are stirred the way they are, you can look it up online for more fun little detail. Certain potions TRULY are mixed and stirred clockwise, counterclockwise (there are other terms to describe these motions) depending on what you are trying to achieve. I tried to incorporate this to show how difficult and hard it is to actually concoct and create your own potion from scratch and how brilliant Tom would be in deducing how to properly create a potion without injuring or harming himself or his intended subject. Creating and experimenting with new spells and potions is often tricky and dangerous, (lets not forget how Luna Lovegood's mother died) and I don't think Tom would have done anything without analyzing and thinking long and hard beforehand. (INTJ personality, remember!)**

 **As to reviewers, a special thanks to KiraCalico! Thank you for your review and following the story! We'll find out more about Lyra and her dedication to the dark arts later on in this story as to why she needs it, why it motivates her and why she has become the person she has. It's going to be a long story so hang on in there!**

 **As always thank you to everyone for reading, keep reviewing, following and adding it to your favorites list, it all keeps me motivated! Next chapter up soon! xx**


	21. Chapter 21

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

 _Her surroundings were dark and hazy, she could hear echoes of voices that she recognized from many years past, but her vision was muddled and she could not see clearly, despite her frantic attempts to rub her eyes. Her hands grabbed at the dirt and dried leaves that lay around her as she tried to sit up, she knew exactly where she was, she had been here before many times. She felt the cool mist of the forest hit her face as she took a deep breath in, the dream was always more or less the same and she already knew what to expect._

 _She lay in wait, waiting for the serpent to slither up her leg from the shadows, but he did not come. Her surroundings were still and quiet and nothing was at all what she remembered, usually she would have awoken by now. Lyra stood up shakily as she held her hands out to maintain her balance. She felt the dead leaves fall from her dress and onto her feet, as twigs and branches snapped beneath her. The wind around her licked at her exposed arms and legs as it sent a chill through her spine. Shivering, she wrapped her hands around her for warmth and wondered what was happening._

 _A twig snapped to her side and she quickly whipped her head around to see what it was, but it was no use, her vision was still convoluted and blurry._

" _Who's there?" she said as she relaxed her arms cautiously._

 _She gasped as the same strange language she had always heard the serpent speak, suddenly filled her head, soft and gentle._

 _Lyra spoke, anxious to discern the strange words. "I can't understand what you're saying…"_

 _There was no response._

 _She bit her lip as she bowed her head, wondering what the words could mean. Was there something someone was trying to tell her?_

 _Lyra drew a breath in sharply as she suddenly saw a blurred figure appear before her and felt her heart beat wildly as a soft hand touched her face. A finger rubbed her cheek softly as it tucked a stray wisp of her hair behind her ear. She raised her hand slowly to meet the hand that lingered on her neck, just behind her ear, but when she went to touch it with her fingers, the hand had disappeared and all she felt beneath her palm was the heat of her own face._

* * *

Lyra awoke suddenly in the soft sheets of her bed, her hand on her face as she tried to piece together what had happened. She recalled the dream she had just woken from, the strange language she couldn't understand and the soft touch on her cheek that had felt so real and as she opened her eyes she realized what had transpired before her world turned dark. Her stomach dropped as she shot up in bed and looked around her surroundings wildly, her eyes finally falling on Tom as he sat next to her bed in the small wooden chair.

He stared at her for a moment before he relaxed his body and spoke, his dark eyes fixed on her.

"What happened-" she said weakly as her stomach continued to fall.

"Your eyes turned as black as night." He said as he eyed her curiously, leaning back in his chair.

"What?" Lyra said as she continued to stare at him, confused and disoriented.

Tom stood as he made his way over to the other side of the room, staring out the window into the daylight as he spoke once more.

"You asked me to tell you what I saw that night in the woods...I saw it again last night."

Lyra looked away, her face expressionless as she fell silent.

"I thought you wanted to know, should I stop?" He said softly.

"No. Please... I need to know." She said as she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself.

He looked at her once more, her usual demeanor was now absent and in its place an unsettling vulnerability appeared. He felt something inside him stir as he started again. "Your eyes became as black as the darkest night, and your hair was no longer the same but stringy and frayed, as white as snow. Skin, like dried leather, decrepit and decayed, that gave off the smell of a rotting corpse, fingers long and clawed, soaked in dried blood. Teeth as black as coal, hidden behind putrid and flayed lips. Your face…"

A choked noise came from Lyra's throat as she looked up at him with horrified eyes. Tom walked over to her and sat down in the chair once more as he finished his thought.

"Your face no longer your own, full of pestilence and lesions, the skin pulled over bones that could be seen through large gaps in the cheeks and forehead-"

"I've heard enough." Lyra said as she stopped him, slowly rising from her bed, and walked across the floor to stare into the hearth, covering her mouth with her hand. Tom's gaze followed her as he softly spoke.

"You act as if you did not know."

She started into the fire as she replied shakily. "I know that the things I have done are quite befitting of a monster. But until this moment, I had no idea that I quite literally became one...let alone one as repugnant as you've described. I know nothing of what happens to me once I lose consciousness. The world turns black and I remember nothing. "

Tom stood up from his chair as he watched her gaze turn from the dancing fire towards the window. The room was silent and all that could be heard was the crackling of the flames from underneath the cauldron.

"Thank you for what you've told me...I would not have known it otherwise...but I must ask, why is it you did not tell me that morning or any sooner, are you not frightened at what I might do-"

He let out a small snort as he approached her. "I've seen far worse things than what ails you and it does not deter me. As for why I didn't tell you, I was unsure myself as to what I saw."

He tried to maintain an innocent face as he lied.

She bit her lip as she ran a hand through her hair. "I do not remember the things I do Tom...I have little to no control once that-thing-takes over. I have tried. I have fought it...but I am losing and now it happens more frequently than it used to."

"If I could offer some insight perhaps…" Tom said softly as he raised an eyebrow.

She looked towards him and nodded, giving him the permission to continue, her face expressionless.

"Whatever it is, it does not seem to want to engage with those that may be able to defend themselves. I noticed this last night as it tried to run from me, rather than attack. It only tried to defend itself, once provoked."

" _That's why it is always no-majs_." she thought to herself as she bit her lip once more. " _It prefers easy prey._ "

He looked at the broken and discarded glass of potion on the floor and tried not to smile as he watched her face intently.

" _She has tried the potion already and judging by the looks of it, it has failed. This is your opportunity._ "

Lyra looked at Tom and nodded as he continued.

"...I don't know what it is that ails you Lyra...but I think perhaps, the potion you intended to brew might be your best chance of holding whatever this is at bay. Until you find a solution of course."

She shook her head in irritation as she motioned towards the potion. "While I appreciate your insight on a better ingredient for the potion, I'm afraid it didn't work."

He continued to walk closer to her, pausing only inches away from where she stood by the fire and spoke gently. "I could help you."

Her gaze rose to his as she searched his face, her eyes alight with suspicion. "And how is it you can help me?"

Tom pulled the vial slowly from his pocket and watched her eyes transfixed on the green powder glowing beneath the glass.

"Standard ingredients may not possess the potency needed to make your potion successful, but I hold in my hand a very rare ingredient, mix this in with your draught and I'm almost sure it would work."

"What is it?" She said as she moved her eyes from the vial to his face, narrowing them in suspicion

"Does it matter?"

Lyra looked at him and bit her lip, she knew he would not tell her and it was pointless to ask. "How do I know it isn't poison?"

She felt ridiculous the moment the words spilled from her mouth, she had already established days ago that if he had wanted her dead he would have already done so.

"Do you trust me?"

Lyra at the contents of the vial carefully and stared into his eyes once more, they bore into hers hungrily, waiting for her response. She felt a flush creep into her cheeks and felt uncomfortable at the expression in his eyes and how she had reacted to it..

" _Of course I don't trust him, but he's also given me no reason to distrust him either. He saved my life...he's kept my secret-no doubt for his selfish reasons, but still...he's never hurt me.._ "

Irritated by her lack of response he spoke again softly looking into her eyes. "Let me help you Lyra."

She recoiled from his voice and turned away from him. "And why is it you feel this need to help me Tom? What could you possibly gain from that?"

He fell silent, rolling the vial between his fingers, carefully deciding on his next words.

" _She's proving to be more stubborn than I initially thought she would be…_ "

Lyra sighed as she stood at his side once more, following his gaze into the fire underneath her cauldron. "What is it you really want Tom?"

He looked at her for a moment before he spoke in his same calm and gentle voice. "It is clear to me that you are uncomfortable with my presence. I simply wish to choose where we go, so I may take what I need from this country and leave. Nothing more."

Lyra sighed as she wrapped her arms around her once more. " _Nothing comes for free Lyra, you knew this was going to be inevitable. If that's his only request, you should be relieved._ "

" _I don't even know where to start looking for answers at this point. I thought I could take my time and do this logically, but it's become quite apparent there is no rational way to approach this and if what he says is true, his potion will at least keep my other side in check for a while. Perhaps this is the best way to get what I want and rid myself of his company for good. The faster he finds what he wants, the faster I'll be alone once more._ "

She sighed as she relaxed her arms and looked up into his face, watching as his eyes grew eager awaiting her response. "Fine."

He gave a half grin as he closed the distance between them and slowly reached for her, grasping her left hand softly, unraveling her fingers as he stared into her eyes and placed the vial into her palm, gently closing her hand when he was done.

Lyra felt a heat in her cheeks rise at the feel of his touch and retracted it quickly back to her side after he had let go.

"Once you've added it, stir the potion counterclockwise four times. After that the potion should be ready within the hour." he said softly as he turned to leave.

She nodded in acknowledgement as he walked towards the door, turning his head slightly as he reached for the knob.

"Oh and Lyra, seeing that today is the last day our rooms are accounted for, I'd like to set out for our next destination as soon as possible."

She raised an eyebrow as she looked towards him, already feeling regret for the bargain she had struck. "And where exactly would you like me to take you?"

"New Orleans. Meet me downstairs in three hours."

Lyra raised her eyebrows in surprise, as she opened her mouth to protest, but he had already left, closing the door behind him.

She turned around to face her cauldron and she uncorked the small vial in her hands, emptying its glittering emerald contents into the potion below. Her mind was fluttering with emotions as she followed Tom's advice and finished stirring the draught.

Anger and embarrassment were the first two emotions that struck her as she grabbed her wand and started to clean the mess she had made the night before. " _How dare he order me around like a house elf. Where does he get off dictating to me what time we're leaving...I told him he could choose where we go, not when we leave...and to New Orleans no less! This is what you get for your foolish idea of bringing someone else along with you._ "

Her nostrils flared as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to quell her temper. " _Think of where you would be if you did not take him with you? You would still be in the dark about your condition...and New Orleans is a perfect place to look for answers. You'll have resources down there..._ "

She felt a wave of nausea hit her as she recounted Tom's description of her the night prior. Bile rose in her throat as she painted a picture of herself with his words in her head. " _How is all of this possible? This isn't like anything I've ever heard of…_ "

Lyra summoned a fresh dress from her bag and discarded the one she had been wearing. Placing the dress over her head, she caught a glimpse of her hair in the mirror and waved her wand elegantly towards her head, her hair quickly falling into soft perfectly styled waves. As she leaned over to see her reflection closer in the mirror, she flicked her wand once more and caught a small tube that flew out from her bag. Uncapping the top and twisting it gently, she applied the creamy red rouge to her lips and rubbed them together.

" _At Least now I feel a little more like myself…_ " She thought as she continued to pack the rest of her belongings away, finally waving her wand towards the large wardrobe which shrank and slowly flew into her purse with everything else.

Rubbing her stomach tenderly as a new wave of wave of pain radiated from her wounds, she turned towards the potion and slowly dipped her glass in. The draught was no longer lilac as it had once been, but had instead turned into a sparkling shade of green.

" _Well...here goes nothing. I hope this works, because the list of potions that don't are getting rather long..._ " Lyra thought sarcastically as she brought the cup up to her lips, hesitating only for a moment before she closed her eyes and drank deeply from the glass.

Wiping her lip gently, with the back of her hand she waited for a sign to determine if the potion had worked or not. She had expected the draught to taste vile, judging by her experience with the last few she had brewed and experimented with over the course of the month, but she was delightfully surprised to find it had tasted sweet with a lingering hint of peppermint.

" _Well, that tasted a lot better than the last and I'm not having any adverse reactions just yet, so that's at least something."_

She waited patiently as she bottled up the remainder of the potion in a large jar and whisked her wand around to clean her cauldron before summoning back into her purse. As she bent down to pick up the small black bag full of her belongings, she realized that by bending she should have felt pain from her stomach, but there was none. Rubbing her hands once more anxiously across her belly, she felt nothing but the soft touch of her own hands against the fabric that stretched across her skin.

" _My pain is gone...does that mean it worked?_ "

Catching a glimpse of herself once more in the mirror, she gasped as she looked at her face. Her cheeks were now rosy and full and the scars under her eyes had vanished. The only imperfection left were her two eyes, a mismatched set of blue and brown. She let out a small laugh as she touched her hand to her face in disbelief.

" _How could this be possible?_ " She thought as she continued to gaze at herself. " _The effects of dark magic are permanent, how could a simple potion reverse all of this?_ "

She shook her head and shrugged it away as she realized she didn't want to know how it had been possible, all she cared about was what it had done for her and hopefully what it would continue to do. For the first time in a long while she felt hopeful at what the day might bring.

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 **Hey guys hope you enjoyed that chapter! Another one coming soon, thank you to everyone who has commented, liked and added it to their favorites, it really means so much to me and it is a big motivator! Feel free to review and give me some feedback ! xx**


	22. Chapter 22

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

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Tom sat downstairs at a table opposite the staircase looking up towards the large clock which sat above the bar, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table. Gathering the small amount of his belongings had taken no time at all and he had left his room earlier than he should have, in hopes Lyra would have followed suit. But that hadn't been the case, instead of being early she was now late. He sighed as he picked up the small book she had given him, flipping through the pages once more.

" _How typical of a woman, late as usual...Perhaps the potion didn't work?_ "

He shook his head and tried to read an excerpt from the book, but found himself too anxious and irritated with her to concentrate.

" _The potion had to have worked. She's doing this on purpose. She was clearly not happy with the new terms of our agreement and this is her way of getting her point across._ "

He looked away from the staircase and rubbed his lip absentmindedly, thinking about all the magic waiting for him in New Orleans. Over the past month he had continued to narrow his list of places to go and decided that of all of the destinations listed, most of what he could discover laid within the confines of the old city.

A small creak from the wooden and winding staircase caught his attention as he quickly looked over to find Lyra, neatly dressed and resplendent, making her way over towards him.

Her face was rosy and pale, as it had been when they first met and she no longer looked tired and scarred from her trials. " _The potion seems to have worked._ " He thought as he stood up and rose to meet her as she closed the distance between them.

She looked down towards the book he had been reading and raised her eyebrow at him. He quickly closed the text and placed it inside his suitcase, speaking softly before she could open her mouth.

"You look well."

"Yes." She said awkwardly as she smoothed the fabric of her dress.

"I take it that the potion worked?" He eyed her curiously as he reached for the suitcase on the small table.

"It appears to have...for now. Only time can tell I suppose..."

He nodded as she looked towards the clock and turned to leave, motioning for him to follow.

"Come Tom, we need to leave and make it to the train quickly, or we'll have to wait hours for the next one!"

"Train?" He asked warily as he followed her through the inns lobby and out into the daylight.

"Of course" Lyra said impatiently as she started to walk down the block, pushing through the crowds of people that lined the street. "How else would we get to New Orleans? It's too far to apparate."

"I haven't seen or heard a train the entire time we've been here. Where-"

She interrupted him once more as she quickly turned a corner and hastened her pace. "You wouldn't have heard a train here, because there aren't any. We need to go to the Salem Department of Wizarding Transportation, from there we can catch a portkey that will take us to the train we need."

"The train we need? How many trains are there?" He said as he quickened his pace, trying to keep up with her while he attempted to avoid bumping into the crowds of witches and wizards walking past them in the opposite direction.

Lyra slowed her speed as she came to a stop in front of a large white building, made of white marble and held up by rows of large stone columns. She turned her head to look at him as she started to make her way up the procession of long alabaster steps that led to its entrance.

"A few." She said vaguely as she lifted her foot to continue upwards.

"A few?" Tom said as he followed her up the steps, irritated by her ambiguous answer.

"Parts of this country are too far away from one another to simply just apparate. So we use portkeys to take us to these various train stations to be able to get around. There's one train that'll take you west, to the farthest reaches of the country, there's another that we'll be taking to head south, towards New Orleans and there's a few more that'll take you either north or to the midwest. It's especially useful for those students who attend Ilvermorny who live across the continent."

"I see.." Tom said softly as he followed behind her, entering the building through giant ornate golden doors.

Once inside, he stopped momentarily, staring in astonishment at the busy scene in front of him. Witches and wizards were lined up in front of large golden doors, walking through in groups and suddenly disappearing behind them. The walls were made from decadent swirls of white and black marble that matched the floors, with a ceiling covered in floating candles that seemed to stretch on endlessly. A small gaggle of girls in school robes passed him as they looked at him and giggled, whispering among themselves.

"Since Ilvermorny is in Massachusetts, all students arrive here and use a special portkey that takes them to the train for school." Lyra watched the girls as she pointed to a large elaborate door, on top of which sat an emblazoned plaque decorated with the school's seal.

An enormous gilded board hung from the high ceiling, spanning across the width of the hall, covered in destinations, boarding times and door numbers to the side of them. He watched as a group of witches and wizards passed them dragging various assortments of luggage and parcels as they made their way down the great halls, pointing at the board before they joined the queues in front of their desired destinations.

"We've made it just in time!" Lyra said excitedly as she grabbed his arm suddenly, pointing to the ornate board floating over their heads. "Gate Four is heading to New Orleans in five minutes, hurry Tom! We need to get in line!"

He felt a heat rise in his cheeks as she quickly let go of his arm and made her way towards the door, looking back to ensure he followed. The line was short, besides the both of them there were only two other wizards waiting, both patiently reading a newspaper to pass the time.

"Once the door opens, we'll be able to take the portkey to the train station and we'll be on our way." She whispered to him softly as she fixed a stray curl of hair behind her ear.

They stood there for a few more moments in silence as Lyra looked up towards a large clock atop the door and switched her small purse to her other arm. She spoke softly to him, her head still focused on the door behind him.

"I saw you were reading the book I gave you earlier...has it been helpful?"

The question caught him off guard as he let out an inaudible sigh, he should have known she would have tried to make small talk with him at some point. "It's been...useful."

He watched her shoulders drop a little at his unenthusiastic answer and felt a strange emotion tug at him.

" _The book helped you at least when it came to identifying the horned serpent…_ "

After a moment of silence he decided to add to his previous answer. "I'd never heard of some of the creatures mentioned in the book before. I'm sure knowing about them now will give me an advantage if I should ever find myself caught off guard again..."

He watched as she turned around and nodded her head, giving him an encouraging smile.

"I'm glad-"

"Thank you." He interrupted softly as he looked away, trying to focus on anything else around him but her.

Lyra nodded as she turned around quickly, not wanting him to see the red flush rising up her cheeks.

" _Why do I feel so strange?_ " she thought as she stared straight ahead trying to rid herself of the feeling. She opened her mouth to reply, unsure of what to say. "I -"

She trailed off, fumbling with words inside her head and looked up quickly, relieved for the reprieve, as the golden door before them swung open. The two wizards in front of them folded their newspapers and walked through the doors as she motioned for Tom to follow her.

"Let's hurry through, quickly now!" she said excitedly as entered through the door, Tom looked up curiously at the door frame as he followed.

The room they entered through was dark and narrow, dimly illuminated and the only thing he could make out was a small brass cup shaped like a fleur de lys lying on the floor. A man emerged from the shadows, dressed in a quaint uniform as he spoke firmly, shutting the door behind him. "If this is everyone, please place your hands on the portkey please."

Lyra leaned over to Tom as she whispered in his ear. "He works for the Department of Wizarding Transportation, they're designated witches and wizards that are hired to travel with us to make sure no one steals the port key and that it's returned properly. It's a terrible job really…could you imagine having to travel by port key multiple times a day? I'm not sure if my stomach could handle it..."

Tom stared around the black tiled room, grateful for the lack of light as he felt his cheeks turn red. Lyra was so close he could feel her breath on his neck as she whispered into his ear. He quickly reached over to grab the port key, trying to dismiss the feeling.

The man in uniform walked over to them and grabbed the small brass cup as well, starting to count. "Leaving for the train in THREE….."

Tom prepared himself for the pull of the port key. He had never been fond of the feeling.

"TWO…"

He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, he could feel Lyra's warm hand against his, both pressed firmly to the cup. He felt his cheeks flush again.

ONE!"

The world faded around him as he felt a nauseous tugging at his belly, his environment spinning wildly around him. In only a few moments the quick pull of the portkey had finally ceased and he felt the solid ground under his feet once more.

He opened his eyes, trying to steady his balance, as he felt Lyras hand quickly leave the cup and followed suit, watching her smooth her dress out and fix her hair. They had arrived in a stone cobbled alley and he watched as the portkey holder tipped his hat to them and grabbed the cup, quickly disappearing.

"I always forget how much I hate travelling by portkey" said Lyra as she looked away from where the man had been.

"This way Tom." Lyra said as she quickly led out of the alleyway and into the open station, which reminded him very much of Kings Cross.

As he observed his surroundings he realized from the strange signs and lack of magical displays they were at a large muggle train station and he felt his stomach drop slightly.

"What's wrong?" Lyra said as she watched a strange look come over Tom's face.

"Will we be travelling with…" He forgot the terminology she had used and slowly waved his arms, pointing to the group of people surrounding them

She looked at him, a confused look on her face until she finally realized what he had meant. "Oh! ...With No-maj's? Absolutely not."

Lyra watched as his eyebrows relaxed and his face softened. "Well, theoretically we could if you wanted to wait a week on the train to get there... but no we'll be taking one of our own trains today….this way Tom."

She pointed towards a deserted phone booth at the end of the platform. As they approached it Tom quickly opened the door and stood aside so she could enter before him. She eyed him curiously as she walked in. "Thank you…"

Lyra turned to look at him and pointed her hand towards the door. "And close that behind you after you've entered, if you wouldn't mind."

Looking at the small space, he grimaced as he walked into the phonebooth, knowing the space between them would be non-existent. As he walked through, he mentally braced himself for the discomfort he expected to experience but was pleasantly surprised after shutting the door. Moving aside comfortably, he realized it must have had an extension charm placed upon it, because the interior had turned out to be quite spacious.

"I figured I'd let you do this, " Lyra said as she looked towards the phone. "...since it's your first time and all."

Tom walked over to the phone and paused as he went to pick it up, looking at her for instructions.

"Just pick it up and dial the number eighteen. That's all."

He looked back towards the phone, picking it up gently and used the rotary dial carefully, pressing his finger in the hole labeled "1" , waiting for it to quickly spin back before repeating the same motion with the number marked "8".

Hanging up the phone slowly, he started to feel the phonebooth spin, watching the world outside the booth twist and blur until it suddenly stopped.

He watched as Lyra made her way to the door and quickly pulled it open, revealing a train platform that looked completely different from the one they had been on only moments before.

"Welcome to Gum Hill Station." She said as she made her way down the platform. A large blue train sat parked in the station as Tom watched witches and wizards pulled wagons of luggage past them, filled with owl cages and floating parcels as they made their way onto different cars.

"Stay here Tom, I'll be right back." Lyra said as she turned around quickly to walk away.

"Where are you…." He asked but trailed off, she was already off, he sat there wondering why she was in such a hurry. He could no longer see her, her black cloaked figure had disappeared into the crowds of people amassed on the platform.

Lyra picked up her pace towards a small booth in the center of the platform, hoping the curtain was not closed, signaling that the train had been sold out of tickets. She breathed a sigh of relief as she approached the window, still open and handing out tickets and waited patiently in line behind a small group of witches.

" _I hope they still have private cabins._ " She thought to herself as she approached the window. The potion she had taken had not yet been consumed or proved effective enough to feel secure sleeping in the economy wagon amongst strangers, nor had she even entertained the idea of travelling in such a fashion. She preferred her solitude.

She stepped up to the small window and smiled at the young witch behind the glass, who adjusted her glasses and spoke loudly.

"How can I help you ma'am?"

"I'd like two tickets to New Orleans please and two seperate private cabins."

"We only have one private cabin left ma'am." The witch said to her as she re-adjusted her small pointed glasses once more.

Lyra groaned as she realized she was going to have to share a cabin with Tom.

"That'll be fine, thank you I'll take it." She opened her purse quickly and placed a few dragots under the glass to pay for the rooms as she watched as the witch behind the glass snap her fingers and a small house elf appeared in a strange uniform.

Lyra shook her hands dismissively as she looked towards the witch once more. "No, that's quite alright, we don't have much luggage, we'll be fine showing ourselves to the cabin."

The witch shrugged and pushed the tickets through the hole in the bottom of the glass towards her, "Very well then, you'll be in Car Five, Cabin Two...Next!"

Lyra stepped away as she watched the cabin and car numbers scrawl themselves in a neat script across their tickets and pushed through the crowd to find Tom. It had taken a moment, but she saw his dark figure leaning up against the stonewall of the platform and quickly made her way over to him. He turned his head as he caught sight of her, watching her walk towards him and quickly stood up straight when he realized she saw him.

"Where did you go?"

She lifted up her hand as she waved the tickets in front of him. "I needed to purchase our tickets."

The train blew its horn as she turned around, starting to count the train cars until she had marked the fifth and looked around towards him once more.

"This way Tom. We don't want to miss the train."

They both made their way through the dwindling crowd until they had reached their car. Tom stood to the side and held his hand out for her politely, helping her into the car.

"I managed to get us the last private cabin on the train…" Lyra said calmly as she looked at the cabin numbers as she passed.

"How long did you say the train ride would be?" Tom asked as he looked in one of the cabins, scowling as he observed the small space.

Lyra hesitated as she came to a stop in front of the second to last cabin and waved her wand at the glass doors as they slowly slid apart. "I didn't."

She motioned her arm for him to step inside first and he glared at her momentarily before he obliged. Following him inside, she closed the glass doors and took a look sighed as she placed her purse down on one of the two cushioned benches that faced each other.

"It'll be a day before we arrive in New Orleans, we're still quite far away."

Tom turned towards her sharply, his expression unreadable as she looked away, pushing the curtains back from the windows.

"I tried to get us two separate cabins, but they were completely sold out. It was either this-" She waved her hand around the small cabin. "Or a small seat amongst fifty strangers. Carefully considering our options, I chose this."

"Where does one sleep?" He asked as he looked around the small space, it reminded him very much of the Hogwarts Express. Back then he never minded the small space, he was usually alone and the train ride had taken no longer than a few hours. But this was different, he had never slept in such close quarters with another, it made him uncomfortable to think about it.

"Lectus Prodio!" Lyra said as she waved her hand delicately in the air and stepped back as both benches on either side of the cabin turned into big fluffy beds. Tom watched her as she waved her hands once more and the beds disappeared.

"I'm not the biggest fan of this either, but it's only for a little while." She said as she sat down in one of the seats next the window, leaning back into it gently.

" _It's been such a long day, I hope this is worth it…_ " she thought to herself as she stared out the window.

The train groaned and lurched underneath them as the horn blew once more, signaling its exit from the station. Tom placed his suitcase carefully in the overhead rack above the bench and sat down across from her, watching her face stare out the window, her expression unreadable, as she twirled her wand between her fingers.

He followed her gaze out the window as he said gently. "You're right...besides it's probably better for us to stay together anyway, just in case-"

Lyra closed her eyes and nodded her head. "Just in case the potion didn't work."

Tom fell silent as he continued to stare out the window, unsure of what to say. He watched as the train pulled out of the station, the smoke from the trains stack blowing against the window in the wind as he settled into his seat. The ride was already proving to be a long one.

* * *

 **Whew. It's been a buy week, I've revisited Chapters 1-3 and rewrote them...** _ **slightly**_ **. None of the major plot points have changed at all, I just tweaked my writing a bit to reflect my writing style a bit more. But anyway, on to New Orleans! :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter, this one took a bit to write but it definitely was super fun to write, here's a couple fun little facts!**

 **I chose the number 18 for the phone booth password because Louisiana was the 18th state to join the United States. Gum Hill is actually a real place in Virginia and has had multiple legends surrounding it about bigfoot. (I wanted to pick a place that had magical folklore as a pickup spot for the train.)**

 **JK Rowling, to my knowledge, has never specified how American witches and wizards get to and from places in the country and because the United States is so vast, to me it only makes sense they would use a series of portkeys and trains to get from places like New York to California, or in Tom and Lyra's case Massachusetts to New Orleans. I kind of based it off amtrak a bit! (There is a direct train that does run from Virginia to New Orleans in real life.)**

 **New Spells :**

 **Lectus Prodio : a spell to make beds appear, based off Latin.**

 **Replies to comments:**

 **KiraCalico- Yes he got exactly what he wanted and I can't wait to write the Chapters about New Orleans. They're going to be there for awhile, so it's going to be fun!**

 ****Special Thanks to everyone who reviews, it really means a lot to me! For those of you who don't feel comfortable commenting please follow or favorite the story! More to com soon!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

The cabin shuddered lightly as the train rocked back and forth, the whirring of its wheels on the track could be heard from below as Lyra stared out the large window to her right. They had been on the train for nearly two hours and the sun was beginning to set in the sky. She stole a glance at Tom, who was completely engrossed in a book he had pulled out from his case, a word had not passed between them since they had departed.

" _I suppose he has the right idea...I should probably do something valuable with my time and continue searching for answers._ "

She opened up the small black black purse beside her and poked her wand into the bag, summoning a thick book with a frayed purple cover. Changing her position on the bench for more comfort, she slowly opened the book, her fingers moving the pages carefully as she turned them. They were old and worn, many ripped in certain spots from years of studying. She turned to a passage, written in a different language and tried to concentrate while she read, which was proving to be difficult, her mind was still occupied from the events of the past two days.

" _Try to clear your head. You won't accomplish anything if you keep distracting yourself…_ "

Lyra sighed and changed her position, crossing her legs once more as she tried to re read the passage. Tom looked up from what he had been reading, her incessant shuffling and re-positioning distracted him and he watched as she once more moved the literature from one leg to another, rubbing her forehead as she tried to read. His eyes glanced towards the cover, fixated on the title of the book.

"Deciphering the Dark Arts?" He said softly as she lowered the book and stared at him. She flipped the cover over and looked at it once more before raising her gaze.

"An untranslated copy." She said as she placed her thumb between the pages she was reading. She crossed her legs again as she motioned towards the book. "Most copies in existence have been translated into a common tongue...this one is not."

"Why not?"

"This book is a collection, not a mere stand alone account of dark magic, it's a catalogue of many different accounts of forbidden spells written in their original tongues. Where they come from, why they were created, all in perfect detail."

She continued as she rubbed the book with her hand. "When you translate something into a different language, sometimes the words lose meaning."

Tom stared at her for a moment before he spoke. "You said languages...how many?"

She narrowed her eyes at him as she looked up, counting the ones she could remember in her head. "Six...maybe Seven? That doesn't include the passages containing a few runes which I've yet to decipher.."

"And you understand them all?" He snorted softly, unconvinced.

Lyra shook her head as she gently laughed. "If by 'understand', you mean piece together slowly then...yes."

She looked out the window, her eyes filled with a strange emotion. "It was necessary for me to understand most languages back when…"

Her voice trailed off as she suddenly changed the subject, placing the book down. She nodded towards the book he held in his hands.

"A History of Magic in North America…" she said, leaning her arm up against the side of the cabin. "Find anything useful in that book?"

"Not really." He said,as he raised the book once more towards his face.

She stared at him intently, knowing he had tried to end their conversation quickly once it reverted back to him. Lyra could almost sense his discomfort.

"Why read it then?" She twirled her wand around her fingers lazily.

He didn't bother to look up as he answered her. "I'm still trying to understand certain things about your bizarre country."

"You know if you have questions, you could just ask."

He let out a small sigh of annoyance as he placed the book down and looked at her, the same curious look on his face.

"Why is it that the communities and cities are so different here? I can't seem to make sense of it...what is the purpose of your wizarding government if they don't control everything?"

Lyra thought about it before she answered. "They do control everything...more or less, they ensure that the laws are followed, protect our currencies, defend our ways of life from those who would try to harm us. I think what you're confused about is our freedom to choose how we, in this country, prefer to live our lives."

Tom sat silently, listening intently as she continued. "For instance, not every child has to go to Ilvermorny."

"Why would-"

"Not every wizard in America follows the European standard of magic, there are so many different types here, why should anyone be forced to change who they are for a societal norm?"

There was a soft knock at the door as a woman's voice could be heard on the other side, warm and cheerful. "Dinner Trolley!"

She stood up and walked over to the door slowly sliding it open.

The witch before her was tall and thin, her red hair wrapped up in a loose bun as she smiled at them, her face friendly and cheerful. "Here are your dinners...They come complementary with overnight voyages, but is there anything else you'd like?"

"No that'll be fine, thank you." Lyra said, smiling at the young woman.

The trolley witch waved her wand and Tom watched as two plates of food appeared before their seats on small trays. She nodded in satisfaction as she resumed pushing the cart and continued to make her way down the car.

Lyra closed the door softly and sat back down in her seat, pulling her dinner closer to herself.

"Now...where was I…" She said as she placed a forkful of food into her mouth, chewing slowly as she thought.

"Not all children go to a wizarding school…" Tom said impatiently as he pulled his tray closer, eating his dinner slowly, as he looked towards her.

"Ah. Right...Some communities are steeped in tradition, where children have been taught certain types of magic by their families, just like their parents had done before them and so on...All children in North America receive their letters of admission to Ilvermorny of course, but not all opt to go..."

She waved her fork dismissively as she looked down towards her purse. "Would you like some wine? Pumpkin juice isn't quite doing anything for me right now…"

Tom sat silently as he watched her wave her hand towards her purse, grabbing a large bottle followed by two glasses that floated slowly out from its opening. She waved her hand once more as she continued to eat, the bottle pouring itself into the glasses as they floated towards each of them. He narrowed his eyes at her as the glass floated towards him.

She stared at him curiously as she swirled the wine in her glass and took a sip. "That bothers you...why?"

He raised his eyebrows innocently as he sipped from the wine glass. "I'm not sure what you mean...why does _what_ bother me?"

Lyra sighed and waved her hand once more, the book at his side floated over towards her slowly, landing in her outstretched hand. "Wandless magic."

Tom placed his fork down, irritated, and gave her an odd look before answering. "It's uncommon...Many wizards have trouble learning how to perform magic without wands."

" _Including myself…_ " he thought angrily. He was annoyed at the idea that another could perform magic he could not.

Shrugging her shoulders before sipping her wine. "It is not as remarkable here...I had an...unconventional childhood…"

She trailed off as she stared out the window, changing the direction in which the conversation was headed. "...Ilvermorny doesn't allow students to take their wands home during the holiday and summer breaks...so I had to improvise…"

"Wands-" She said as she gestured to her wand, farther away on the bench. "-are merely tools for us...objects that allow us to channel our magic in a specific way ...but they can also be our chains. Take a wand away from a wizard-"

"...and they have no power." Tom said softly, following her gaze out the window.

"Precisely." Lyra said as she took another sip of wine.

He twirled his wand delicately between his fingers as he looked towards her once more. "How does it work?"

She looked towards him and sipped once more from her glass. "It's harder to learn as an adult, especially after years of reliance on a wand...but with enough practice, it's achievable. You just need to learn to channel your magic through yourself, rather than a piece of wood...Once you master that, it's easy."

Sighing, she leaned forward to hand him his book, waving her wand bitterly as she looked at it. "But-wandless magic can only take you so far. Certain charms, powerful spells still require us to use these. I can only perform simple things without my wand...for spells that require more strength...I still need this."

He grabbed the book from her gently and leaned back into his chair, contemplative.

Lyra smiled halfheartedly and turned back towards her dinner, frowning while she finished it quietly.

" _I wonder if I would feel better about using my wand, if I had actually been able to choose one of my own…_ "

Her wand was second hand, passed down to her from her mother and although it was powerful, it resisted her whenever she had done something it seemed to disagree with. It was frustrating, but she had eventually learned to work around it, the wand was no match for her will. When she was younger she remembered standing outside the wand shop, watching all the other children go inside, buzzing with excitement and walking out in wonder, staring at the wands which had chosen them, personalized to their talents and needs.

She looked to her wand once more and her face softened. " _None of it mattered anyway, I still bested them all, wand of my own or not._ "

"You should take another dose of the potion."

Woken from her thoughts, Lyra stared at him for a moment, her eyes snapping back from her distraction. "What?

Tom waved his wand as the tray disappeared and rolled his eyes impatiently as he spoke once more. "The potion. You need to take it, you haven't had any since we left Salem."

"Right…" She said, as she tried to put the old memories far from her mind, summoning the potion from her purse.

He watched her take a small sip as he crossed his legs. "I think twice a day should be sufficient, until we know if it works or not…"

"I feel more like myself than I have in a long time..."

"All the more reason for you not to let your guard down." He said as he sipped on his glass of wine. "Unless of course you want others to discover your secret."

She capped the bottle as she placed it back inside her purse and looked towards him indignantly. "One person knowing is quite enough I think…"

Tom gave her a wry smile as he looked down towards his wine.

"Why did you keep my secret for yourself, rather than expose me?" She asked abruptly, as she raised her glass towards the bottle, waiting for it to refill.

He stared at her, his dark eyes unreadable as he spoke softly. "What would I have gained by exposing you?"

Lyra stared out the window once more, the wine had started to affect her senses and was making her speak more outwardly than she was accustomed. "MACUSA would have been more than appreciative towards you for apprehending someone like myself. They would have forgiven your failure to procure a wand permit, you would have received multitudes of praise, a badge of honor for capturing a monster."

Letting out a small snort he sipped from his glass once more. " _If she only knew the things I've done…_ "

"I'm not searching for any merits or distinction in this country, all I care about is the knowledge I came here for." He said softly as he placed the glass down before him. "I don't care about the things you have done, they hold little consequence to me."

She looked towards him once more, her eyes tired and heavy. "It doesn't bother you to keep company with someone like me? Others-"

"You've asked me this before and I answered it quite plainly, but i'll rephrase it in the hopes it'll sink it better." He said irately and continued, his dark brown eyes settling on hers. "When I saved your life, you told me I should have let you die, that I didn't understand."

"Yes..." She murmured as she tried to break his gaze, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment as she was reminded once more of more words she had spoken in momentary weakness.

"-And If you recall I asked what it was that you thought I couldn't understand?" He said, his voice soft and gentle.

Lyra remained silent as he paused, his face solemn and intense as he spoke.

"Not everyone transforms into a monster when they do terrible things Lyra."

The soft light of the cabin danced across his face, illuminating his handsome features as he continued. "Sometimes doing hideous things just simply can't be helped and the people who get hurt are just victims of circumstance."

She felt a flush creep up in her cheeks as she looked down towards the floor. " _Is he really trying to make me feel better?_ "

"You shouldn't concern yourself about what others think. Most people are small minded and weak, they couldn't even begin to comprehend ideas and problems that are larger than themselves..."

"Perhaps you're right if I look at it that way…"Lyra looked up towards him and felt the corners of her mouth turn up into a weak smile as she tried to change the subject. "I know I said I would never ask, but what is it you're hoping to find in New Orleans?"

He stared at her for a moment before looking out the window, his dark eyes narrowed and unreadable. She sighed and stood up slowly, her head had started to pound from the amount of wine she had drank.

" _Of course he's not going to tell me…_ "

Clearing her personal belongings from the bench, she waved her wand and watched as a bed popped up from where she had just sat. It was late and she felt the weight of the day starting to take its toll on her body, she needed to rest.

"I can't help you if I don't know what you're looking for." Lyra said matter of factly as she grabbed her pillow and fluffed it gently with her hands before pulling the sheets back. She felt annoyed at his lack of response to her question.

" _So it's perfectly fine for him to be in my business, but when I ask him a simple question-_ "

Her thoughts were interrupted by his silky voice.

"There is old magic that I'm particularly interested in...magic that is not practiced in my own country."

Surprised that he had responded to her question, Lyra sat down slowly on the bed and crossed her legs gently. "Ah. You mean Voodoo."

"Whatever it is you wish to call it." He said as he shrugged his shoulder, tapping his wand restlessly against his knee. "I'm not interested in learning the fundamentals, there are certain _spells_ that are of extreme interest to me and I wish to learn them."

Lyra felt a sting in her chest as she recalled her last visit to New Orleans, she too had eagerly sought guidance from the dark magic that lingered within the city and had been severely disappointed when she had been forced to leave empty handed.

"I see." She furrowed her brow as she looked towards him. "Well...I can't promise that you'll be able to discover anything, but at least now I know in which direction to point you."

" _Maybe he'll have more luck than I did...New Orleans can be unyielding._ "

"I'll find what I need." He said absentmindedly, turning his head towards the window which peered out into the blackness of the night, as she sighed and looked once more at her bed, pulling the sheets back and easing herself between its folds gently.

" _Well he's certainly confident...I'll give him that._ " She sighed.

"I need rest if we are to make the most out of tomorrow. We should arrive in New Orleans by late morning."

Tom nodded in acknowledgement, his attention towards the night sky outside the cabin window unaltered.

"Well then...Goodnight, Tom…" Lyra murmured uncomfortably as she waved her wand in a delicate motion. A long curtain appeared between the both of them as it blocked him from her view, giving her some much needed privacy.

Extinguishing the lights from her side of the cabin, Lyra lay in darkness as she watched the soft glow emanating from Tom's side beneath the curtain. She was unsure about how she should feel about the conversation that had transpired between them and shook her head gently, forbidding herself to think of anything that might distract her from sleep.

* * *

Tom flicked his wand impatiently as he watched his dinner tray and table quickly disappear, settling himself further into the soft cushion of the seat. He looked towards the thick curtain that concealed Lyra from him and tapped his fingers on his knee. The conversation between them had been taxing at first, but he had been surprised to find that after a while he had begun to enjoy talking with her.

" _She's knowledgeable at the very least…_ " He thought as his eyes fell upon the book next to him. The one she had so easily summoned to her side without a wand. He looked at it curiously as he slowly placed his wand away from himself. He thought back to what she had said as he held his hand out and stared at the book.

" _You just need to learn to channel your magic through yourself, rather than a piece of wood...Once you master that, it's easy."_

He gave his hand a small wave " _Accio"_.

Nothing happened.

Frustrated, he repeated the movement and tried to clear his head as he focused. He frowned once more as the book lay still before him.

" _Just like anything else, this will take patience and practice._ "

He practiced silently for the next hour, determined to make the text move, only to fail time after time.

Tom silently cursed as he ran his hands through his raven hair and glared at the book as if it had wronged him in some egregious way. Although he had become used to the meticulous fashion in which certain magic had to be learned, he wasn't accustomed to the repetitive lack of results that he was currently experiencing.

" _What am I doing wrong?_ " he thought as he stared at the book and shook his head in agitation, reaching over to grab his wand. He looked at the small piece of wood angrily as he tapped it against his leg and leaned his head back into the soft cushioning of the seat. He stared out the window as his own reflection looked back at him, the soft of the glow of the cabin dancing around him.

A wave of drowsiness slowly crept over him as he began to feel his eyelids grow heavy. He glanced towards the thick curtain that separated him from Lyra and could hear her sleeping softly on the other side, her breath rising and falling in rhythmic patterns. Under normal circumstances the sound would have irritated him, but for some reason tonight he found it strangely relaxing.

Dimming the lights on his side of the cabin, he slowly closed his eyes as he listened to her soft breath and the gentle hum of the train beneath them, falling asleep to the gentle sounds of the night.

* * *

 **Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, took me a little bit to write, kinda going stir crazy being locked up, dealt with a lot of anxiety this week. Hope all of you are safe and well with everything going on in the world.**

 **So, I wanted to address the whole "wandless" magic idea. The only thing we really know about wandless magic is:**

 **1) Wizards from Africa have mastered this type of magic and are not forced to use wands.**

 **2) Native Americans are also practitioners of wandless magic.**

 **3) No where in the books has it ever specified that the characters we all know, used or mastered wandless magic. (Except for maybe Dumbledore I believe.) In the movies we see some wandless magic used, but it's only there for cinematic purposes.**

 **Yes, as children, wizards display magic without the use of a wand but it's all accidental and uncontrollable. So no, I don't think personally Tom Riddle was gifted with wandless magic as a child, those displays were simply accidental and he had to acquire that knowledge and work hard at it like everybody else who might have been a practitioner. I don't like the idea a lot of writers seem to have about Tom that he was just always naturally inclined to magic and that everything he achieved seems to come to him easily. It makes him have zero character build. I think Tom Riddle was probably such a talented wizard because, in fact, he tried HARDER than everyone else. He dedicated almost 30 years of his life (from ages 11-40ish), before re-emerging from obscurity, to study, learn and make sure he was more knowledgeable than ANYONE. He set himself up against things that challenged him and because of his dominant and determined nature, he didn't stop until he got or achieved what he wanted.**

 **Additionally, I don't think Hogwarts would teach wandless magic as a course in school. In Canon it is said to be unpredictable and dangerous to perform magic without a wand, I can't see many students actually qualifying for a class such as this, let alone teachers letting them practice and risk one of them getting hurt. I think great wizards such as Dumbledore and Tom Riddle would have learned this on their own time after they had graduated Hogwarts. As to why Lyra can perform wandless magic, that'll be revealed later. BUT I did think it important to include (because it makes sense) that certain charms, spells, hexes etc, that are more difficult to perform, would still need to be performed with a wand. The harder the spell, the more precise it needs to be and wandless magic is anything but precise, which is why wands were invented.**

 **Well anyway if you enjoyed it please add it to your favs, review and follow! Xx**


	24. Chapter 24

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

Lyra awoke suddenly as the train lurched violently beneath her, groaning as she raised a hand to her face and rubbed her eyes. She raised her head slowly as she looked towards the window and felt the morning sun on her face.

" _I can't remember the last time I slept through the night._ " she thought as she stretched her arms above her head carefully and sat up in the small bed, smirking, as she reached over towards her bag and pulled out the small glass bottle filled with the emerald colored potion. " _I know this draught isn't the answer to my problem, but so far it definitely seems to be helping. That was the first night I've had in a long time that didn't involve a crazy dream or me turning into..._ "

She shook her head and pushed her thoughts away as she took a small sip of the potion and corked it up once more, placing it gingerly into her purse. Dipping the tip of her wand into the small black bag, she summoned a small mirror and opened it as she glanced at her reflection, neatly fixing her hair and pouting as she reapplied her dark red lipstick.

" _Cleanliness is next to godliness_ " She thought as she remembered her mother's words, rolling her eyes as she scowled.

Finally satisfied with her appearance, she placed her belongings back into the small bag at her side and stood up, smoothing the wrinkles out from her dress. She waved her wand lazily at the bed as she stretched again and watched it slowly fold away and disappear, reverting into the old cushioned bench once more.

" _I wonder if Tom's awake yet._ " She thought as she looked towards the thick curtain that separated them, she raised her wand slowly and hesitated. " _He could still be sleeping, I don't know what time it even is._ "

She leaned into the drape and pressed her ear towards the fabric as she listened quietly for any sign that he might be awake. Frowning at the eerie silence that greeted her from the other side of the room, she stepped away from the curtain and wrapped her arms around her, tapping her wand anxiously against her side.

Vivid recollections of the previous night flashed through her mind and she closed her eyes calmly as their dialogue flooded her head. She remembered how uncharacteristically kind he had acted and scowled at how confused it made her feel.

" _Not everyone transforms into a monster when they do terrible things Lyra…_ "

She knew Tom was well versed in the dark arts and knew that like her, he had also committed his fair share of atrocities, but it was so easy for her to forget, especially during times when he carried himself in such a calm and gentle manner. Last night when he had spoken to her, his words were so gentle and earnest that for the first time in a long while, she was able to let her guilt and her self-loathing slip away, even if only for a little while.

" _What a frustratingly confusing person he is…_ " She thought as she felt the train lurch once more from underneath her.

" _I don't want to be trapped behind here the rest of the way to New Orleans, but I don't want to disturb him either, perhaps I should just take a small peek._ " She raised her hand hesitantly towards the side of the drape and held onto it momentarily, changing her mind once more as she let her hand fall to her side. The idea of him staring back at her as she foolishly peeked out from behind the curtain was humiliating, as well as the guilt she would also feel for accidentally waking him from his sleep. " _I suppose waiting a little longer couldn't hurt._ "

She crossed her arms and sat down softly, shaking her head as she summoned the book she had begun to read yesterday to her side once more. Lyra flipped carefully to the page she had left off at and read the rest of the passage quietly.

" _Sanguimancy, also referred to as Blood Magic, is a type of magic that incorporates the use of blood into a spell or potion to achieve desired results. Due to the grey area of its nature, it is categorized under the dart arts and in most countries still remains strictly forbidden._

 _Certain spells are prime examples of the darker side of its nature, such as_ _ **Cruorcantio**_ _, an ancient blood spell that binds its caster to another. Although seemingly useful in nature, allowing one to locate, aid and help their binded partner in times of urgency, many have used this incantation with malicious intent in order to enforce their power over others. There is no countercurse for the spell, its effects and power will remain until the caster themself perishes._

 _The spell's origin is unknown, but many believe it derived from Egypt, a spell created by the famed ancient wizard Djedi in order to force many people, non-magical and wizards alike, to help with the construction of the ancient pyramids. It is only a theory, however, it's true origins…_ "

Lyra flipped the page to continue reading the passage and cursed loudly as she felt the parchment slice through her finger.

"Damnit!"

Realizing how loudly she had cursed, she felt her cheeks burn and quickly raised her hand to her mouth, watching a bead of blood slowly start to form on the tip of her index finger. She placed the tip of her finger into her mouth to stem the bleeding and quickly summoned a small vial labeled "Dittany" from her purse. As she uncorked the small tube, she heard his calm, silky voice speak out to her.

"I'm awake you know."

She quickly administered a drop of potion to her finger and tossed it back into her purse, waving her wand slowly towards the curtain. Lyra watched as it drew back and finally disappeared, revealing Tom as he stared at her, a hint of amusement on his face.

"How long have you been awake? I was trying to be quiet so as not to disturb you.." she said, the red on her cheeks starting to fade.

"Three hours...Four maybe?" he said as he stared out the window momentarily, looking back towards her as he gave her a slight smirk. "But I was wondering how long you'd stay hidden behind that curtain."

She smiled wryly as she grabbed her book and placed it on her lap. "Actually, I was afraid I was going to be stuck behind that curtain the rest of the way. Did you not sleep well?"

He flashed a small grin towards her once more and nodded towards the book. "The sleep I had was adequate enough. Still reading?"

"Hardly…" Lyra said as she looked down towards the old frayed text. "It's hard to concentrate when your mind is somewhere else…and yourself?"

She looked around to where his book was laying and found that it was no longer there, the bench was empty and barren. He frowned as he grabbed his wand and crossed his legs, tapping it against his palm. "I'm afraid I'm suffering from the same...complications."

"Anxious about New Orleans?" she said as she leaned back into her seat, raising her eyebrow at him sardonically.

He hesitated at the question, although he was eager to arrive in the famed city, the events of the prior night were still bothering him.

"No." He said softly. "I look forward to our time there...but it seems I have other things on my mind."

She looked at him curiously, watching his eyebrows as they furrowed in frustration. "Normally I would never ask...but seeing as we're both distracted and still stuck in this cabin together...what's on your mind?

He stared at her, his eyes deep and intense, and she found herself trying to find something, anything else to stare at.

" _Why does he always have to stare at me like that, with that look?_ "

It wasn't his face that made her uncomfortable or uneasy, it was his eyes. They had this strange way about them that made her second guess every word that came from her mouth. She could see his mind behind them, calculating, thinking, constantly judging and digesting the way she spoke while critiquing everything she did. It was both disconcerting and uncomfortable.

Tom looked at the woman in front of him and watched as she tried to avert his gaze. He masked the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth, pleased at the discomfort he knew he caused her. He thought quietly to himself as he considered answering her question. He had never divulged his problems or concerns to another, he instead preferred to work through his challenges alone, to let another know about his vulnerabilities seemed to him weak and unwise.

" _What bothers you so much is something she could easily help with...why not tell her and use her knowledge for your own benefit?_ "

He watched as she frowned, biting her lower lip in thought as her gaze settled on the scene outside their cabin window. His eyes moved over her face as he watched the sun dance across her porcelain skin and radiate off her dark locks of hair, and finally glistened off her dark red lips that in times of weakness, he found himself staring at.

He dismissed the strange feeling in his stomach as he spoke softly. "Well if it's of interest to you...I stayed up most of the night, trying to grasp the concept of performing magic without my wand...and found my efforts to be quite fruitless."

Her face softened as she digested his reply, seemingly relieved and he watched as her lips parted slowly.

"Oh…" Lyra looked at him and gently smiled. "Well...if that's all it is, we are still about an hour or so away from New Orleans, if you'd like I could help you..."

She placed the book beside her as she waited for his reply. "...That is if you want me to help you."

"I don't want to be a bother..." He said cautiously as he tried to disguise his eager intentions.

"It's not a bother to me at all, in fact it'll provide me with a much needed distraction from…everything" She waved her hand dismissively.

"Well then, if it's not an imposition…" Tom said innocently as he felt his heart race in anticipation.

"I assure you it's not, but, you'll have to do as I say…" Lyra said as she placed her wand in her purse and looked at him wryly as she continued.

"Now the first thing you need to do is rid yourself of your wand-" She said, waving her hand, watching, as Tom's wand flew from his possession into her outstretched palm. He stared at her furiously as he tried to voice his displeasure.

"That's-"

"Calm down." She placed his wand next to her as she placed her hand in the air, to relax him. "You need to be able to channel your magic through you and not be distracted by your wand-"

" _I tried that already._ " He thought angrily as he scowled at her.

"-Or your temper." Lyra said as she raised an eyebrow towards him. She watched as he stared at her, his eyes softening, as he started to quell his anger.

"Relax." She said softly. "You need to concentrate. Now, in the beginning it's much easier to practice wandless magic verbally, so let's start with an easy one. Call your wand to you and move your hand in the same fashion you would with your wand."

"I tried that with a book last night, why should it work any differently with my wand?" Tom said as he cast a doubtful look at his wand.

Lyra sighed as she shook her head. "You have to really _want_ something in order to call it to you without a wand. Same goes for spells and charms, you have to _feel_ that yearning inside you, even more so than when your wand is in your possession. You were angry when I stole it from you, so take it back."

He narrowed his eyes and switched his focus from her to the wand that lay at her side.

" _Concentrate._ "

He took a breath and focused on his wand as he quickly waved his hand. "Accio!"

His wand still lay at her side, untouched, unmoved. Nothing had happened.

"Try again." Lyra said as she stared at him intently.

Tom shook his head in frustration and repeated the words over and over again for what seemed like an eternity, each time holding his hand out in anticipation, and growled angrily when his efforts still remained fruitless.

"Don't be discouraged. It takes time." Lyra said gently as she tried to reassure him, watching as his eyes turned dark and angry.

"I'm sure you're enjoying this little laugh at my expense." He spat at her, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

"Why would I laugh at you?" She said matter of factly as she tilted her head in confusion, his collected demeanor was now gone and he turned on her in a fit of rage. For a moment she thought she had seen a flash of red dance across his eyes and dismissed it quietly again.

"I'm sure it amuses you to watch me make a fool out myself." He sneered as he stood up quickly holding his hand out. "I'd like my wand back."

Lyra frowned as she stared up at his figure looming over her angrily. "I would never laugh at someone who is trying to learn something new, let alone something as difficult as this..."

She continued softly "... and I would never laugh at you, Tom."

"My wand." He said as he continued to hold his hand out, his voice slightly kinder than it had been moments before.

"No. You asked for this." She said defiantly as she stood up to meet him. "Try it one more time. I told you this takes practice. It's frustrating...but you just have to keep at it."

" _Damn her._ " He scowled as he looked into her strangely mismatched eyes, stubborn and determined and sighed, he knew she was right. " _My impatience is getting the better of me. Normally something this challenging would never bother me, but how is it that someone like her is able to accomplish this and I find myself struggling to perform the most menial of spells. I'm making a mockery of myself in front of her... it's unacceptable._ "

"Sit here, let's try something different." Lyra interrupted as she watched his eyes race, deep in thought and sat down, patting the spot next to her on the bench. Tom looked towards her, suddenly aware, as he sat down hesitantly next to her, his body rigid and tense.

Lyra noticed his discomfort and placed a hand gently on his shoulder, continuing calmly, "You need to relax for this to work." He shot her hand a dirty look as he tried to loosen his body. She retracted it quickly as she noted his expression and spoke softly.

"Now...close your eyes."

"How will that help me? Is it not better to see what it is I'm supposed to focus on?" He asked begrudgingly, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Do you trust me?" She said as she turned towards him.

Tom narrowed his eyes at her. She had never given him reason to distrust her and had always been honest with him when something had been asked of her. " _You baited her to help you and she has agreed. You should be taking advantage of the situation, not acting like a suspicious child…_ "

"Yes." He said as he gave her a wary look.

" _Well that was a lie if I ever heard one..._ " Lyra thought as she glanced at his face. " _But lucky for him I need this distraction._ "

"Alright, close your eyes then."

Tom closed them slowly, and felt her lean over him gently, placing something familiar into his hand. He knew at once exactly what it was and felt a jolt of electricity race up his arm as he grasped it lightly.

"My wand?" He said in confusion as he opened his eyes to look.

"Keep your eyes closed." She said as she quickly covered his eyes with her hand.

He grimaced at her touch once more and closed them shut, lightly grasping his wand.

She removed her hands as she addressed him once more.

"Now, I'm going to take it away from you once more and we'll continue from there...alright?"

He nodded in acknowledgement as he waited for what happened next. Instead of summoning it from in-between his fingers as he assumed she would, he felt the warmth of her fingers brush slowly against his as she gently took it from his grasp once more. He breathed in sharply as he felt his heart pound in his chest, heavy and fast as he tried to maintain his focus. He felt her leave his side and bend over in front of him, talking softly. She was entirely too close for comfort and it was distracting.

"Now, do you remember what it felt like when you touched your wand? How the magic raced through you and warmed your body?"

He nodded his head stiffly as he recalled the feeling, trying hard to ignore the smell of her perfume as he felt her back away from him.

"When you call out for your wand this time, try to reach out and find that same feeling, only this time it needs to be channeled from within you and not a piece of wood."

Lyra studied his handsome features as she watched his closed eyes, twitching in concentration, the dark black hair that always fell into his face, clinging to the hollows of his cheeks, and felt herself blush as she anxiously waited for him to try once more.

Tom sat for a moment and tried to recreate the feeling he got from his wand, thinking carefully until he felt a familiar sensation creep through his body. His heart skipped a beat in excitement as he waited for it to rise up and consume him. As he felt the familiar shock of electricity encapsulate his body he suddenly opened his eyes, Lyra's words finally making sense, and waved his hand towards his wand, blurting the spell out with confidence.

"Accio!"

Lyra gasped and smiled enthusiastically as she watched the wand jerk out from her hands and into his. "Well done Tom!"

He stared at the piece of wood in his hands with satisfaction and smirked when he realized what had happened. _"At last."_

"Well, now that you've done it once and you know how to properly channel your magic, you'll only get better. I told you once you got the hang of it, it would be easy." She winked at him as she smoothed out the wrinkles from her dress.

He nodded as he digested what had just happened, his heart still thrumming with excitement.

Lyra watched as his face lit up in delight and stole another glance at him. She suddenly felt a heat rise in her chest and tried to immediately dispel it at once, her cheeks turning red as she glanced around desperately for a safe distraction. Her eyes fell upon the forgotten book at her side and picked it up hurriedly, trying to find where she had left off, eager to push Tom from her mind.

" _What's gotten into you? This is absolutely not the time for you to think about anything else but the task at hand. Stay focused. Don't waste your time on foolish nonsense._ " She continued to berate herself until the feeling in her chest subsided and took a deep breath as she immersed herself completely into the book.

Looking up from his wand, Tom watched curiously as Lyra seemingly recoiled from him, her enthusiastic demeanor gone and had instead withdrawn once more into herself, fervently reading her book and settled comfortably in the seat across from him. He pondered her change in disposition for a moment and opened his mouth, only to find himself closing it once more unsure of what to say.

" _A 'thank you' I'm sure would suffice._ " He told himself dryly as he continued to steal glances at her, but felt strange, as if there was something more he wished to say. He shook the feeling off in annoyance and felt a twinge of self loathing towards himself for his increasingly erratic behavior around her. It was becoming increasingly harder to think with her around and he longed once more for his privacy and solitude.

" _Soon enough._ " He thought to himself as he stared out the window at the strange scenery around them, the trees in the distance no longer tall, bright and green, but strange, dark coloured and melancholy. The trees stood immersed in thick dense swamps the tracks had been built over and their long dripping leaves trailed down towards the dark water below, their appearance mournful and grim. His thoughts were interrupted as a loud voice belonging to neither of them filled the cabin, causing both of them to look up.

"Attention all passengers, we will be arriving in New Orleans in approximately ten minutes, please take this time to collect your personal belongings in preparation for you to disembark. We hope you all enjoyed your ride with us and we wish you all a great stay in the Crescent City."

Tom looked towards Lyra as she placed the book inside her purse and grabbed her wand quickly, standing up.

"The Crescent City?" He said quizzically as he looked towards her.

"New Orleans used to be shaped like a half moon-" She said absentmindedly as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress. "-before the no-maj's overbuilt it. The original city was built against the bend of the river, hence the shape."

"Now where was I.." Lyra held her wand over her head as she waved it delicately, her dark black dress changing slightly as the long billowing sleeves disappeared and he watched as the length of her skirt rose and settled neatly right above her knees.

He raised an eyebrow at her as she shook her head and grabbed her purse. "You're going to want to take that jacket off and roll up your sleeves. You've never been to New Orleans in the middle of June."

"I'm sure I'll manage." He said as he felt the cabin suddenly groan and lurch beneath them as the roaring train finally came to a stop. His heart jumped in anticipation.

"Suit yourself." Lyra said as she shrugged her shoulders, moving her purse around her wrist as she walked towards the door. "I personally can't stand the heat, maybe you'll find it more tolerable."

Tom stared at the back of her head in annoyance as he grabbed the small suitcase he had placed upon the long shelf above him and walked up behind her carefully, keeping a safe distance. He waited anxiously, until the doors to the cabin suddenly flew open and followed as Lyra quickly turned into the hallway to exit the train.

He had finally reached the destination he desired above all else.

* * *

 **Alrighty then! Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! I hope you enjoyed my take an what learning wandless magic would be like, more of that to come later! There was a historical figure in this chapter, in Egyptian folklore/history there really was a wizard named Djedi and yes he was alive at the height of the building of the Egyptian pyramids! Not a lot of fluff in this chapter (although there was some!) Tom's isn't a warm or empathetic person so I don't think he would take well to new feelings and emotions, I think they would confuse him quite a bit. Remember he had a lot of issues in general and there was a lot of self loathing thrown up in there. To feel anything other than ambition in his eyes was weakness. Well stay tuned for the next chapter and feel free to drop a review on what you think! Follow and favorite if you enjoy ! (it really motivates me) xx**


	25. Chapter 25

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

 **TRIGGER WARNING: There are parts of this chapter that deal with situations pertaining to sexual harassment.**

* * *

Tom swore under his breath as he followed Lyra up a side street through the busy and bustling city of New Orleans.

" _Frigidus Circium_."

He cast another cooling charm over himself as he slowly peeled his jacket off from his body and started to roll up his sleeves. The air was hot and humid and seemed to cling to him, his attempts at keeping it at bay remained fruitless as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He never experienced such an oppressive climate in his life and found it difficult to understand why anyone would resign themselves to live in such a place.

The streets were boisterous and loud, filled with crowds of muggles who lined the pavements as they bantered loudly amongst themselves. The sounds of music permeated the air as horse drawn carts and motor vehicles passed back and forth through the cobblestone roads. Despite the dynamic fervour that filled the city, he noticed the faint traces of magic that seemed to crackle in the air around him.

Lyra looked over her shoulder and amusingly watched as Tom removed his jacket and rolled his sleeves. She stifled a laugh as she noticed the beads of sweat accumulating across his forehead

 _"That'll teach him for disregarding my advice…_ "

A soft breeze hit her face as she slowed her pace down to match his, continuing to walk calmly next to him.

"We're lucky today is a little cooler than normal, I've been here on days where it was too hot to even breath."

Tom scowled at her as he finished rolling up his sleeve, his shirt sticking to his chest uncomfortably as he felt a bead of sweat drop from his forehead. "I fail to see why anyone would want to live here in these conditions, surrounded by the heat and-"

He paused as a group of people rudely passed between them, talking and laughing amongst themselves without even offering an apology. "-filthy muggles." he finished softly.

Lyra smirked as she heard his last statement, she had surmised earlier that he was not entirely fond of the non-wizarding kind but he had never confirmed her suspicions until now. She shielded her eyes from the overbearing sun, looking ahead of them. "Tradition...amongst other reasons."

They started to walk down the street once more, walking in silence, passing a few shops and local businesses until she raised her hand towards a small strange looking boutique at the end of the street. Tom's gaze followed her hand until his eyes rested on its faded and weather-worn light pink awning and wooden sign that hung over the door. He read the sign carefully as he furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Madame Marie's Voodoo Shop?" he said gently as he looked towards Lyra, keeping pace with her as she sauntered next him leisurely.

"No-Maj's will do anything to try to solve their problems." She said pausing on the street corner. "Tourists and locals spend lots of money on baubles and trinkets that promise them luck in love, money or health-none of the things they buy are actually magical of course, but it does put a healthy profit into some wizarding pockets."

"Wizards run these shops?" He said incredulously as a look of disgust crossed his face. "How could one degrade themselves in such a manner, catering to muggles?"

Lyra shrugged her shoulders as they crossed the intersection and continued down the busy street. The heat blistered off her brow as she reached into her purse and summoned two flasks, handing one of them to Tom. She watched his face frown disapprovingly and laughed. "It's not firewhisky this time, just water. It's easy to get dehydrated with all this humidity."

He begrudgingly took the flask, uncorking it as he took a sip and continued to listen.

"Most wizards _do_ have reputable shops, scattered across the city which are only recognizable to those like us…but New Orleans is a strange place Tom and many have learned to take advantage of the lack of...supervision here.."

"Does MACUSA not have jurisdiction over New Orleans?" Tom asked curiously as he placed the flask in his pocket.

"Of course they do, but New Orleans is a little more complex than other places in North America-they're pretty set in their ways and there's too much going on here to keep track of everything. MACUSA only gets involved in serious matters."

"Why would a wizard or witch ever want any business with muggles?" He asked silkily, trying to hide his disdain.

"I've already told you." Lyra said wryly as she glanced at him, her eyebrow raised in skepticism. "Money."

"It's disgraceful." He said repugnantly as he looked around at the crowds of people that walked past them.

"It's a livelihood." Lyra said dryly as she took a sip from her flask, shaking her hand in his direction as she continued. "Not everyone shares your sentiments Tom and we don't have a class based system like you do. All wizards here are mostly pure-blood, but we can't rely on our names and ancestry to get us ahead in life, our lineage means nothing. It all comes down to one thing here-Wealth. We don't fraternize with no-maj's much here, but many will take their money if the opportunity arises. New Orleans has survived this long because of it and some of the richest and most affluent wizards of North America have grown up right here on these streets."

She waved her hand around at the people that crowded the old cobble-stoned streets, the musicians that played up against the side of buildings and on the corners and towards the people drinking and eating happily on their outdoor balconies that overlooked them all. "There are wizards among us even now, everyone blends in here Tom. The only secrets this city holds are far beneath its surface."

He looked at her and paused momentarily before responding. "Doesn't it seem unwise to you that everything is so-mixed here? Surely there have been problems?"

She paused at the street corner, waiting patiently as a horse drawn buggy passed before them. "Rarely. Most no-majs down here are either tourists, looking for a good time and too inebriated to concern themselves in others affairs or they are local and embrace the culture in which they live. Nothing is strange to them here."

He nodded as he thought about what she had said earlier. " _It makes sense that most American witches would be pureblood due to their strict segregation policies…so that would mean-_ "

He hesitated to ask, annoyed that he should even give her reason to think he cared to know, but felt inclined to ask the question anyway. "So in regards to what you said earlier, you would be a pure-blood then?"

Lyra stared blankly ahead as she walked, her light-hearted disposition gone, her voice suddenly emotionless. "It would be my guess...My mother was pure-blooded...but I never knew my father and she never mentioned him, so I'm only left to assume."

Tom studied her face before he looked away, her eyes refused to meet his. "The topic seems uncomfortable to you, my apologies, it was indelicate of me to ask-"

She cut him off abruptly, her voice cold and distant. "It doesn't matter. I put that ghost to rest a long time ago. I never cared enough to find out, it made no difference as to-"

He looked at her, carefully digesting her words when suddenly they were interrupted by a man who stumbled towards them, reeking of alcohol and sweat. His clothes were stained and he stumbled out from a bar into the sidewalk, a rowdy group of men following him, laughing. He interrupted their conversation as he eyed Lyra, his eyes full of something that Tom recognized.

"Look at this one right here guys." The young man gestured to his friend, holding a can of beer as he pointed towards Lyra. "Why pay to stare at those broads in there-" He said as he motioned towards her, his friends laughing as he continued to harass her. "-when there are better looking ones out here that you can look at for free."

The man walked right in front of them as he spilled his beer sloppily on the pavement before their feet.

Lyra tried to step impatiently around him but he put his arm out in front of her blocking the way.

"Move." She exclaimed icily as she stared at the man's beady black eyes, trying to hold in her disgust as she noticed the sweat and spittle on his shirt.

"Where ya goin' little lady? Why don't you give me one hour sweetheart, it'll be the best you've ever had." The man grinned as he wobbled in front of her, smiling as his friends egged him on.

Lyra rolled her eyes as she tried to step once more around the man, and looked towards Tom suddenly as she felt him tense up beside her. His face remained expressionless, but she could see the tip of his wand poking out from his side, clutched firmly in his hand and pointed at the man.

"Come on Tom." She whispered as she tried to pull him along. "We're wasting time and our first stop is right up the street."

"What you think you're too good for me?" The man slurred angrily as he pointed to Tom.

"This bitch must only love pretty boys." He turned towards Tom, stumbling backwards as he tried to maintain his balance, the beer spilling onto his shirt.

"Tell you what, you give me an hour with her and I'll let you watch." The man said as he gestures in Tom's direction, still laughing.

Tom stepped forward as his face distorted angrily. "You filthy mug-"

"Tom."

He felt her grab his arm calmly and gave her a murderous look. "This filth needs to be dealt with."

She shook her head and beckoned him to follow her. "Let's go. We don't have time for this."

He felt his body relax as he looked at her soft face, her eyes surprisingly calm. He grasped his wand tightly and reluctantly followed her as they stepped around the belligerent man, trying to put distance between them. They had only made it ten feet before they heard him call out once more towards them, this time in anger.

"Forget it, you can keep her! She's not that pretty anyway and it'll take more than a little action to warm that icy bitch's bed!"

They heard cackling behind them as the men spilled out onto the street, patting their friend on the back as they walked in the opposite direction. Tom, his blood boiling, turned towards Lyra and raised his wand in retaliation, but stopped when he noticed she had already pulled her own out.

She looked towards the men and flicked her wand carefully muttering a curse under her breath.

"Oculus Dispareo!"

She waited for a moment until she heard the man scream and smiled, tucking her wand back into her dress and smoothing out a wrinkle in the fabric.

"I CAN'T SEE!" He heard the man cry out from the distance, holding his face as he sank to the pavement, his friends gathering around him as they tried to figure out what had happened.

Tom turned towards Lyra as she continued to walk, smiling to herself and asked curiously "What did you do?"

"A little curse I invented a long time ago, though I haven't had a reason to use it for a long time. He tried to take my dignity, so I took his eyesight. Seemed fair. He won't be looking or talking to any women in that manner for a long time."

He looked back towards the man lying in the street screaming and grimaced. "You let him off easy."

She looked towards Tom, his expression amused and laughed at the delight on his face. "Maybe I did. Thank you by the way for your concern earlier."

"It was only a reaction to the moment." He said as he tried to dismiss her words. "Which you obviously had no problem in dealing with yourself, although the spell lingering on my mind would have proven more unfortunate for him."

"I can only imagine." She half smiled at him as they passed a group of people who were strangely dressed in mismatching outfits.

" _Wizards no doubt._ " he surmised, as he heard them whispering amongst themselves about what had transpired before their eyes and nodded in approval towards Lyra before slowly turning around.

"You know what I love about the wizarding community in New Orleans?" She said, a grin spreading across her face.

"What would that be." He answered dryly as he sipped from the water flask again.

" _I can tell you already what I dislike about the city itself._ " He thought to himself as he shuffled his suitcase to another hand, wiping the previous one riddled with sweat against his side.

She rounded the corner at the street and came to a stop in front of an old abandoned coffee house. "Everyone minds their own damned business here."

He smirked as he looked towards the shop before them, boarded up and seemingly empty. "Seeing that you just cursed a man in broad daylight, I'll take your word for it."

Lyra gave him an amused little smile as she approached the barred doors, and tapped her wand against it quickly. She stood back as the door unlocked and pushed in inwards, beckoning Tom to follow her inside. As they stepped through the crumbling entrance, Tom stared in amazement at the scene that unfolded before his eyes. They were inside a busy cafe, filled with multitudes of witches and wizards, sipping their coffee and eating delicious smelling their right he observed an older wizard, dressed well with a neat little beard, puffing steadily on his old pipe as sipped from his mug, reading the latest edition of _The New York Ghost_.

He grinned slightly, the cafe reminded him of the first time he had stepped into The Leaky Cauldron. " _This place smells far better..._ "

His musings were interrupted by Lyra who motioned towards an open door opposite them.

"I need to sit for a moment to think about where we need to start." Lyra said as she walked towards an open door at the end of the shop, the sun shining brightly into the cafe from the streets that lay beyond. "With any luck there'll be a table open outside for us."

He followed her out of the cafe and felt the warm air hit his face as he entered a part of magical New Orleans. The small establishment spilled out onto the open pavement with a few delicately placed tables outside its doors encompassed by a black wrought iron gate to separate it from the street. The windows of the cafe were surrounded by an array of magical plants that bloomed inside flower boxes underneath the open shutters. The street itself was cobble-stoned as it had been outside in the muggle world; the shops and businesses that lined its corridor remind him once more of Diagon Alley, each one magical and fascinating as their wares spilled out onto the crooked walkways.

"This little part of New Orleans is known as Rue dues Merveilles " Lyra said delicately in french as she sat down at a vacant table outside the cafe, motioning for Tom to sit down across from her.

"The road of wonder." He exclaimed softly.

"You speak French?" She said, looking surprised.

"Not well, but I can get by on what little I do understand." He said as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

Not much longer after they had placed their belongings down, a small neatly dressed house elf appeared before them and placed some napkins and cutlery on the table, her voice high and squeaky.

"Could I interest you in anything to drink?"

Lyra stared at the small creature, a polite smile on her face as she placed her order. "Yes please. A cup of coffee-black if you wouldn't mind and two beignets."

The small elf looked at Tom as a quill and parchment appeared out of nowhere and scribbled down Lyras order, she stared at him expectantly as he deliberated.

"Nothing for me...thank you."

Lyra looked at him curiously as she glanced towards the house elf. "He'll have a cup of tea with some cream and sugar. On the side please if you wouldn't mind."

She gave the elf a few dragots as it nodded in agreement, suddenly disappearing, Lyra laughed as she saw Tom stare at her disapprovingly.

"If I wanted tea I would have asked." he said softly, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"If you wanted a beignet I'm sure you would have asked as well, but either way I ordered both for you and I would recommend you eat. Who knows the next time either of us will have a chance to relax or enjoy a moderate meal."

He frowned as he shook his head. "I don't need you to pay for my food or lodgings. I'm quite capable of attending to my own needs."

She laughed as their drinks and food appeared suddenly before them, grasping the mug as she slowly brought it to her lips. "So it makes you uncomfortable that I pay for your food and board but not when I turn into a nightmarish creature. You are a strange one Mr. Riddle, I'll give you that…"

"I'm not accustomed to receiving charity.." He said resentfully as he looked down at the cup of tea before him, pouring a drop of cream into the glass as he stirred in a bit of sugar.

"As of a few nights ago, I consider nothing I do for you as a charity." she said softly as she broke up one of the pastries with her finger, shaking the excess sugar off of it as she placed it into her mouth.

"I owe you quite a bit Tom. Whether you realize it or not. You've given me a chance to sort through my-situation-without distraction. I'm quite grateful for it, despite the hoops you made me jump through to get it."

He sat silent as he sipped on his tea, narrowing his eyes at her as he carefully chose his reply. "You speak as if you hold no grudge towards me."

"If I held a grudge you would know it." She gave a little half laugh as she sipped her tea once more. "I'm not pleased with your knowledge of the situation, but I'm willing to place those feelings aside. You must know though, money means nothing to me. I pay for all of our endeavors not because I am forced to or out of pity, but because I have it and it's of no use to me sitting idly in a bag collecting dust."

"...And how did you manage to amass such wealth?" He asked curiously as he broke off a piece of the strange pastry and placed into his mouth, surprised at its delightful taste.

She sipped her coffee as she stared down the street. "I worked hard my whole life to be successful. If you're good at something you don't do it for free."

"So what exactly was your profession?" He asked as he stared at her intently, irritated with his strange interest in her life that had seemingly grown over the past months.

Lyra narrowed her eyes at him before looking down at her glass, tapping it with her finger. "Before I answer that, I feel inclined to ask why it is that you are so poor?"

She was met with silence as she heard him place his cup down softly and looked up towards him curiously. His face remained emotionless, but she watched his jaw clench in agitation.

"You see Tom, I find it quite alarming that you already know so much about me and ask for more, yet I do not know anything about you." She tapped her finger impatiently against the cup as she smiled. "I can see your talent and your ambition and I find it hard to understand why someone such as yourself has not found the same success as I had."

Tom stared at her for a moment before replying softly. "Perhaps I measure success differently than you."

"Perhaps…" Lyra said as she eyed him curiously. "But that still doesn't answer my previous statement."

He let out a chuckle as he looked at her innocently. "You are unyielding. There's nothing that I've done in my life that could possibly interest you."

" _Or that I would even consider telling you about._ " He thought to himself dryly as he thought back on his lineage, his accomplishments and his horcruxes. " _But in the past few days her trust has proven to be more of an aid than a hindrance._ "

"I highly doubt that." She said as she looked at him, her eyes filled with suspicion. She sighed as she shrugged her shoulders. "Have it your way then."

She crossed her legs impatiently and sipped on her tea as a heavy silence filled the air between them.

" _Enough of the idle chatter, I need to figure out where we can find accomodations and after that will come the tricky part. Let's hope my fortunes have changed since-_ "

"I grew up in an orphanage, which as you could imagine left me with little to start with."

She suddenly looked towards him, shocked that he had shared something personal with her. Her eyes softened as she tried to meet his own, which were now steadily focused on the crowds that passed them in the street.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She said, biting her lip in discomfort. She felt an inward tugging at her heart as she opened her mouth to reply once more. "I-"

"Lyra Leroux. I can't believe my eyes, is that really you?"

She heard a voice, deep and familiar, from outside the gate call out her name and she felt her insides burn angrily at the sound of it.

* * *

 **Well this Chapter took me a little longer than the last to write, I really do love New Orleans as a place and I want to definitely do it some justice. Sorry to anyone who might have found the sexual harassment scene triggering. I tried to keep it PG-13ish and not remotely over the top but it shows that Lyra can definitely hold her own when it comes to whatever life has to throw at her. Her own invention of an evil curse says a little about her personality. I really don't have a lot of commentary on this chapter, except that I do think that places like wizarding New Orleans would definitely have found ways to profit off of their magic.**

 **Spells of my invention:**

 **Frigidus Circium- an atmospheric cooling spell**

 **Oculus Dispareo- a curse to remove ones eyesight, rendering them blind**

 **Thank you for all the reviews and follows! For all of you who haven't already please review, follow and fav if you enjoy the story!**


	26. Chapter 26

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

Lyra closed her eyes slowly, hoping that the voice would go away, that it had only been a figment of her imagination and felt her anger stir once more as it called out to her again.

"It _is_ you. I can't even believe my eyes!"

Tom noticed Lyra's jaw clench tightly as she closed her eyes, her delicate hands balling into fists on the table. He followed the sound of the deep voice until his eyes settled on a young man leaning against the wrought iron fence directly next to them. Long tousled dark blond hair lay against his sun-kissed face, his jawline masculine and strong with thin lips and a prominent nose. He was tall and well groomed, his temperament irritatingly both cheerful and arrogant as Tom watched him stare at Lyra jovially through his bright cerulean eyes. Based on his rude intrusion alone, Tom had already decided he didn't like him.

" _Damn it._ " Lyra thought angrily as she tried to hide the emotions pulling at her face, opening her eyes slowly. " _You knew it would only be a matter of time before someone recognized you. But of all people...why did it have to be him?_ "

She grimaced as she turned towards the voice and replied coolly, trying to hide her displeasure. "Hello Cassian."

"Hello Cassian?" The man replied as he let out a deep laugh, leaning further down onto the gate towards her, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Is that all I get? I haven't seen you in two years, I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm than that."

" _Two years is not nearly long enough._ " She thought as she raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"What are you doing here?" Lyra asked coldly as her hand found her coffee, bringing it up slowly to her lips as she tried to avoid staring at the man before her.

He laughed as he looked up towards the sun, shielding his eyes. "Two years and nothing's changed, you're still as precarious as the last day I saw you."

"I see you've improved your vocabulary." She said callously as she ran her fingers over the rim of the cup.

Cassian sighed as he ran his hands through his hair and waved his hand down the street. "I'm here on official MACUSA business, seems like one of the locals put a nasty curse on one of the no-maj shops in town. Every time someone goes into his shop they break out in terribly painful boils."

"Sounds like MACUSA has you running fools errands." Lyra said dryly as she placed her glass down. "Have they finally run out of important cases or is it that everyone in the department is under qualified for their positions? I would think that something like that would normally fall under the Department of No-Maj Relation's jurisdiction."

Cassian frowned as he stood up and fixed his suit. "Normally it would, but that department has been overworked lately. Hughes retired and they're having a hard time filling his position."

He stared at Lyra intently as he tucked a strand of blond hair behind his ear. "I could ask you the same question though...what's finally brought you out of hiding?"

Tom watched as Lyra fingers tapped the table impatiently and gave the man a cold look. The idle chat between the two was bothersome and had started to become a nuisance. He watched the displeasure rise once more in her face as she turned to address the man, her eyes narrowing. "Hiding? Why would I be hiding?"

Smiling as he motioned towards her, he shrugged and laughed. "Two years and not a soul has seen you, it's like you disappeared off the face of the earth. One could only assume-"

"Blind assumptions are foolish, useless fodder for those who lack common sense." Lyra said viciously, interrupting him.

He smirked at her knowingly as he chuckled once more. "I've missed your wit."

She broke eye contact with him as she quickly changed the topic. "Shouldn't you be off to work? I'm sure MACUSA would want that situation dealt with as soon as possible. It'll take quite some time to round them all up and cure them before erasing their memories."

Cassian paused as he carefully digested her words. "I suppose you're right." He glanced at Tom loftily and nodded in Lyra's direction. "Watch out for this one she's a spitfire...but personality wise she's about as warm as a winter's day."

Tom considered the man smiling arrogantly before him and chose his words carefully, forcing a strained smile onto his face. "I'm afraid I have to disagree with you, I find her to be extremely charming. In my experience...people who are particularly remarkable may appear off-putting to others. "

He watched a frown creep onto the young man's face and looked back towards his tea, pleased with himself. " _If I were in her place I would never allow someone to speak about me in such a manner..._ "

Cassian narrowed his eyes in displeasure at Tom's reply and turned back lightheartedly towards Lyra, his disposition changing quickly as his eyes raked over her, a honeyed grin tugging at his lips. "Well seeing as we're both in New Orleans, maybe we'll run into each other again soon and have a chance to continue this" He waved his hand between them "...but as you so elegantly pointed out, work is waiting and I have to take my leave. I hope to see you again." He nodded towards them both and smiled, his eyes lingering on Lyra momentarily before he turned away to walk down the street.

Lyra muttered angrily under her breath. "I would rather die…"

She watched until he was far enough down the street and sighed as she rubbed her temples, her mind racing.

"An old acquaintance?" Tom asked softly as he took a sip of his tea and placed it gently down on the table before him.

Lyra stood up from the table sharply as she grabbed her purse. "We should leave. It won't do us any good frittering the day away here." She pushed her chair in irately as she walked away from the table.

He raised an eyebrow at her sardonically as he grabbed his suitcase and sat up from the chair, following her into the street. They walked for about a minute until she addressed his question calmly.

"I knew it was only a matter of time until I ran into someone who recognized me" She frowned as she looked ahead of them, her voice distant and cold. "His name is Cassian Barrett. An inconsequential dolt of a man that I have the misfortune to know."

Tom smirked as he walked alongside her. "I take it you're not fond of him."

She sucked her teeth as they continued along the street passing a few shops that were bustling full of witches and wizards. "He's a complete idiot who's spent his whole life gathering success off of others accomplishments. There's not one original or intelligent idea in his whole head."

"He seemed very fond of you." Tom said wryly as he stepped around a small elderly witch who had just walked out from a shop next to them.

Lyra let out an exasperated sigh as she looked towards him. "Cassian has always been somewhat enamored with me, ever since we met. I always assumed his attentions would dissipate after time and he would look towards something else to engage him, but I was proven wrong."

He watched as she tried to hide the look of revulsion on her face. "You do not return his affection then I assume."

She choked on a laugh as she turned towards him. "Would you return someone's affection if you thought them to be completely below you?"

He smirked as he found himself feeling strangely jubilant. "Surely not."

"I've known him for too long and too well.. There was not one moment spent between us that he did not ridicule me for my interests or endeavors. He refused to educate himself the way I did, he lacked ambition and was content to remain stagnant, never mastering even the small insignificant interests of his own. How could I even respect such a man let alone envision myself standing beside him. No. I would rather be alone my whole life than suffer sharing any part of myself with him."

Tom looked at her face intently, her strange eyes disgusted and stubborn. Her words reverberated in his head and struck a chord within him. He realized her sentiments summed up exactly how he had felt his entire life and why he had never partaken in the useless flirtations and dalliances that others seemed to desire.

"It seems we seem to share the same inclination towards solidarity." He said softly.

Lyra chuckled as she shook her head in agreement. "It would seem so...I can only hope that'll be the last we see of him. I don't need him meddling in my affairs."

"Since you seem to be quite apt at cursing others, I'm sure you'd be able to relay one in his direction." His sarcastic response caused her to turn toward him and gasp, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Was that a joke?" She said as she tried to contain her amusement.

He shrugged as they sauntered down the block together, stopping at a large fountain that had been placed in the middle of four intersecting streets.

"By the way...thank you for your kind words earlier-." She said as she looked up at the elegant fountain, resting her hands on top of its stone mouth. "-even if you only said them to make Cassian feel foolish."

Tom leaned over next to her and followed her gaze towards the large marble carving that stood erect in the middle of the fountain, fashioned into the shape of a large fleur de lis.

"While that was my intent-" Tom remarked as he watched the water sprout from the tips of the statue's peaks and added gently "-I must admit that everything I said was true."

Lyra's focus shifted from the fountain to Tom as she felt a heat rise up in her cheeks and turned away quickly, grateful that his attention was fixated on something else. "I'm hardly remarkable..." She said softly as she picked at part of a loose stone with her finger.

"Don't discredit your abilities." Tom said sharply as he looked towards her. "It doesn't suit you...besides, you can hardly call your talents ordinary."

She gave him a strange look as she nodded silently. " _He's acting even stranger than usual today. Just when I thought I was starting to figure him out…_ "

Tapping her finger on the fountain absent-mindedly, she tried to control her thoughts from wandering too far and spoke slowly. "I was thinking Tom...only one of us needs to find us accommodations for our stay and since I've already been here more times than I can count, why don't I go along and do that and you could take this time alone to explore the city-I'm sure after all this time in my company, you'll enjoy the privacy."

He nodded silently as she finished speaking and looked into the water, staring at his own reflection that stirred restlessly as the waves of the fountain moved around.

"Alright then it's settled. Meet me back here in an hour and then I'll take us somewhere that will hopefully prove beneficial to us both."

She straightened her back as she stood straight and smoothed her dress out, turning away from him. As she took a couple steps forward, she hesitated and looked back towards him, her face suddenly serious as she spoke again. "Tom-avoid Rue du Rouge if you would, there'll be nothing of interest to you there."

Tom watched as she turned away from him and walked through the crowd, disappearing from his sight. He took one last look at himself in the water and pushed himself up from the fountain, walking around the landmark to see the other streets that surrounded him.

* * *

Tom's face soured in disappointment as he walked through the unfamiliar streets, glowering at his surroundings. " _When Lyra suggested I go off on my own I had assumed I would see something worthwhile…"_ Although the shops and buildings were decorated in a fashion he had never seen, each one boldly painted and different from the rest, his curiosity had settled into a disinterest.

" _There's nothing to me that appears to be any different along these streets that I haven't come across in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade back home. None of these shops display anything even remotely interesting._ "

He wandered back over towards the direction of the fountain, the hour of his precious solitude almost up and glanced towards the side street he has been told to avoid, it's aura gloomy and forlorn. He watched as a few witches and wizards entered and exited the small dismal looking pathway and found himself intrigued. He walked over to the mouth of the small street and stood under the small wooden sign that read "Rue du Rouge". The paint of the small plaque of wood was chipping and cracking, adding to it's dreary appearance.

He smiled, remembering the street that had been his home for many years. " _Knockturn alley…_ ". Many had steered clear of the crepuscular side of Diagon Alley, fearing its reputation for unsavory and dark shops, but Tom had enjoyed his time spent within its walls, devouring its secrets and forbidden trades.

" _Lyra warned me about this street, but I've experienced far worse things than she could ever imagine. Nothing here could be any more dangerous than what I've already seen._ "

Tom smirked as he walked out from underneath the street sign and into the mist that seemed to settle against the old cobblestone streets of Rue du Rouge. " _If she wants to play into silly superstitions and avoid furthering her own knowledge, that is her decision, but I will not be told what to do._ "

He thought about the furious look that would have splashed across her face if she knew that he had once more intentionally disregarded her warnings and grinned to himself. Frowning that his thoughts had again led back to her he sighed and raked a hand through his dark hair.

 _"It seems I've encountered some unforeseen complications..."_

He had originally intended to befriend her only outwardly, taking advantage of her knowledge and abilities to further his own interest and then when she had outlived her use, she would disposed of as quickly as possible. But he had slowly found himself growing accustomed to her presence, realizing her intelligence and wit had become strangely captivating and that he longer wished to be rid of her company. He felt self-contempt at his own efforts to comfort her, the kind words uncomfortably sitting upon his tongue like sawdust and he had grown to despise the familiar burning in his chest as his thoughts strayed to her. His inner conflict was starting to grow increasingly harder to ignore as he struggled with emotions he refused to acknowledge, ashamed at his confusing behavior.

Tom shook his head as he pushed the unwelcome thoughts from his mind, trying to focus his attentions elsewhere. He walked along the eerily quiet street, watching as strange hooded figures lingered underneath shop awnings, he could feel their eyes on him as he continued down the cracked and uneven pavement. The stony road was a lot darker than it had first appeared, the lack of sunlight unnatural and unusual for the time of day. Tom looked up slowly towards the buildings to see if their stature was to blame for the absence of the sun and noticed that although they were tall, they were not high enough to block it's rays from shining onto the street.

" _Strange…_ " he thought to himself as he passed an old boarded up shop, a cloaked figure hunched over inside its stairwell, hooded and breathing raggedly. He looked back quickly, sure he had heard a hiss coming from underneath the fabric, but shook his head at the thought and turned back around, his eyes now resting on what seemed to be a pub up ahead in the distance, a street light glowing dimly in front of it's doorway.

The windows were dark, the light inside hidden behind thick dark red curtains that hung from heavy rods inside the bar. A small golden plaque hung above the door with no words to mark the establishment's name, only a small symbol shaped like a sword, its handles curved downward like crude wings, the hilt empty and shaped like an hourglass, spilling tear drops of red into the hollow swords blade.

A few cloaked figures stood outside of the bars storefront, softly whispering among themselves as Tom walked past them and pushed the dark wooden door open. As he entered the small dark tavern, he noticed an array of tables neatly arranged around the space, small flickering candles on each, their lights dancing against the wall. The bar was completely empty, each table barren and unattended. He walked up to the vacated bar, adorned with pillars of red candles, each resting on a pile of dried and accumulated wax from the ones burned previously, dripping down from the bar like spilled blood. An array of dusty bottles varying in shapes and sizes lay undisturbed on the shelf behind, looking as if they had not been touched in a century. His eyes watched the dancing flames until a soft voice startled him.

A man stood behind the bar and walked into the light, his face ghostly pale against his long dark hair that fell below his chest. Tom frowned, he was sure there had been no one standing there before, but once more pushed his suspicions from his mind.

"How can I help you." The man said, his voice smooth and silky, as he stared at Tom, a small smile tugging at his hollow and grey cheeks, his teeth whiter than any Tom had ever seen before. His eyes were unnaturally gold and vibrant and did not match the sickly pallor of his complexion.

He did not normally partake in drinking alcohol, but it was not yet the time to meet Lyra by the fountain and the idea of passing the next half hour immersed in a book, alone in silence seemed appropriate.

"A glass of red please. Your choice, I'm not particular." Tom said softly as he turned his back to walk towards the nearest table, running his finger over the wood as a layer of dust clung to his finger. He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

" _No wonder this place is empty…_ "

"Of course. You must accept my apologies for my absence earlier...I was attending to... business in the back."

Tom scowled as he sat down and laid his suitcase on the table, watching the dust rise into the air, finally disturbed. "It makes no difference to me."

He paused for a moment as he opened his suitcase, debating on which book to read, when the old and weathered book Lyra had given him caught his eye, the candlelight gleaming off the strange insignia on its clasp. He slowly pulled the book out from his case, closing the top gently and gasped lightly as the bartender stood quietly before him, placing the cup down gently on the table.

" _I didn't even hear him approach…_ " Tom thought as he observed the man strangely, reaching over to grab the glass of wine.

"My apologies once again." The man said as he flashed his white teeth at him once more, "I did not mean to startle you."

"It's fine.." Tom said abruptly as he opened the book, eager for the man to leave him alone. He opened the metal fastening of the book as he glanced at the first page, sipping gently from the wine as he stared at the strange runes. He sucked his teeth softly as he realized the man still idled before him and lowered the book to meet his gaze.

"You look warm." The man said silkily, standing eerily still as he observed Tom, the expression in his eyes unsettling.

"I'm quite alright, thank you-" He said, the irritation rising in his voice.

" _So much for silence-_ " Tom thought angrily as he narrowed his eyes at the man, who once more made no effort to leave his presence.

"That's not what I meant." The man replied softly, his eyes fixed on Tom. "Warmth is a good sign, for one's cheeks to be rosy and pink, that means that you are in good health."

Tom cocked his head at the strange comment, his patience waning. "As much as I should thank you for the concern of my well-being, I'd prefer to be left alone." He placed some money before him, assuming the man had lingered for payment and motioned toward the book quickly. He watched as the man flashed his white teeth again and collected the coins from the table.

"Of course. Let me know if you need anything...anything at all." The man bowed elegantly and walked silently back to the bar, his footsteps inaudible.

Tom slowly turned his attention towards the book once more and raised the wine to his lips, drinking deeply as he tried to ignore the bartender's continuing gaze upon him, the taste of the fermented grapes sweet and bitter all at once.

He wrinkled his nose again and shook his head. "As _soon as I'm done with my wine, I'll be glad to leave this place and it's annoyances._ " He looked down at the strange writing on the page and bit his lip. It was crude and unlikely anything he had ever seen before, the letters more like symbols, and completely unreadable.

" _I've never seen runes like these. If these were ever in a book I've studied or have been taught, I don't remember them. If I'm to discover what these mean I'll have to decipher the language, starting with each letter._ "

He took another quick sip of the wine, placing the glass down gently as he trailed one of the symbols with his finger. The page suddenly moved as his eyesight started to waver. He shook his head as he tried to refocus and grew frustrated as the page became blurry. He placed the book down and closed his eyes, rubbing them slowly with his hands.

" _Perhaps the lighting in here isn't suited to reading._ " He thought as he opened his suitcase, shoving the book back in, locking it quickly. He stood up, his heart pounding in his ears and felt a wave of vertigo wash over him as he tried to maintain his balance, the world suddenly spinning around him.

" _I need to get out into the sunlight, into fresh air..._ " He thought as he looked towards the door, his vision still blurry and unstable. He grabbed his wand from his pocket, his hands trembling as he slid his suitcase off the table, it felt like dead weight in his arms as gravity tried to pull him to the floor. A wave of nausea rose in his stomach as he felt his legs buckle, his heart beating slower, echoing loudly in his ears. His mind raced anxiously as he felt his body weaken and wondered what was happening to him. He closed his eyes slowly and breathed in deeply as the world spun, trying to regain control. As he opened his eyes, now heavy and cumbersome, he noticed the bartender standing before him once more, his figure blurred and unsteady as he reached down towards him, his pale hand extended as the light shone off his translucent fingernails.

" _The wine!_ " Tom thought suddenly, angry at himself for not suspecting the bartenders intentions and pointed his wand shakily in the man's direction. Before he could mutter the spell on his tongue, he felt the world turn dark and his eyes close.

* * *

 **Another chapter down! Hope you all enjoyed it, please feel free to review, follow or fav! It's a huge motivator! I hope everyone stays healthy and I'll post the next chapter within the week!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

Tom groaned as a sharp pain awoke him from his unconscious state, his head pounding with each dull throb. He could feel the cold sweat that lay across his forehead as a bead of condensation slowly trickled down his forehead, to his cheek and finally rolled off his chin. He tried to open his eyes, his lids still heavy and caked with dust from his forced slumber. Lifting his head up gently, he attempted to make out his surroundings and growled in frustration when he realized his eyesight was still hazy and blurred. Through his muddied peripheral, he could tell he was no longer in the bar, but somewhere else, dark and unfamiliar.

" _Where am I?"_ he thought as he tried to move his arms towards his face, growing irritated with the salty perspiration that kept running down his forehead into his eyes. He frowned when he realized his arms were not responding and he was unable to move. Another wave of pain erupted from his skull followed by a short series of sharp stinging pulses that overtook him as he tried to focus on what little he could make out in his near vicinity. The room was circular and appeared to be dimly lit, with candles afire across every part of the dark chamber, if it had walls, he could not make them out in the blackness. Large column-like arcs encompassed the entire perimeter, made of old dark stone and draped in dark red fabric that hung like canopies from the ceiling. If not for the pillars of candles carefully placed upon the ground he would have not been able to make out the intricate tapestries mapped out on the floor before him, leading to an elaborate golden chair, empty and unattended.

" _The wine._ " He thought angrily as he tried to move once more, breathing heavily as his pursuits proved fruitless. " _It was poisoned. I should have known. How could I have been so foolish_?" The empty bar, the strange bartender, he should have been more aware of his situation instead of acting so brazen and arrogant.

"You can keep trying to move, but you'll just continue to exhaust yourself." A deep smooth voice spoke to him.

Tom raised his head up and tried to look around the room, anxious to see where the voice had come from and narrowed his eyes as a pale blurry figure made its way out from the black depths beyond one of the archways. He stepped into the light and stood behind the golden chair, a long pale hand running across its elaborate back as he sauntered closer into view.

"Where am I?" Tom demanded, his voice full of venom. He winced as the strange pain spread through his body like wildfire.

The figure walked around the chair, his footsteps inaudible as he sat down softly, crossing his legs. Tom stared at him through pained eyes and from the voice could tell that this man was not the same one who had poisoned him earlier, but someone different. His clothes, although blurry and untextured appeared more lavish, his hair seemingly shorter and neat, but his pallid complexion and golden eyes were similar to the first, striking and salient.

"Not that you will need the information after your purpose has been served, but you are in my home, Maison De Germain." The man spoke in clear english, waving his hand in the air as he motioned to his surroundings, but his thick accent and pronunciations were familiar to Tom as he looked up sharply.

"You're french."

The man laughed and snapped his fingers, Tom watched as another pale figure stepped forward from the darkness to his left and bowed to the man, handing him a goblet of something before stepping back into the darkness.

" _How many are in the room with us?_ " He thought anxiously as he tried to peer into every dark corner.

"I was french in a past life, many moons ago." The man said as he smiled, sipping on his glass. "But now, I consider myself to be quite - how do you say- patriotique? I have grown quite fond of my life here in America. But your accent has caught my attention too, and I wonder if we have left our countries behind for the same reason, my young English friend."

Tom struggled to keep his head up, his neck strained from his body's lack of response. "My reasons for being here are not your business. Who are you and why am I here?"

The man stared at Tom carefully before he continued. "I have many names. None of which you have likely heard or will hear again." He smiled as the candlelight flickered off his strangely white teeth, stroking the rim of his glass with a long pale finger. "But to most I am known as Germain."

"And why have you brought me here." Tom hissed through his clenched teeth, trying hard to ignore the continuous stabs of pain that rolled through his head.

"For a man who is in no position to make demands, you're certainly cavalier. You are here because you chose to be here." The man said silkily as he sipped from his glass, his golden eyes staring hungrily at Tom.

"I did not choose to be here-"

"Ah, but you did." Germain said as he snapped his fingers, handing off his glass to another colorless figure that stepped out from the shadows only to step back into the darkness once more. "I did not coerce you into my home, you came inside of your own volition."

"I did not choose this." Tom said as he stared at the man venomously.

"...Like many others who have entered these walls." Germain said as he got up from his chair slowly. "I do not search out anyone from beyond my doors, but I cannot refuse my family fresh blood when it so willingly walks into our home."

Tom felt his mouth dry up as the man approached, his mind suddenly racing. " _Everything makes sense now..the lack of sun in the street...the figures in cloaks...the bartender with his grey skin and his eyes like liquid gold-_ "

Germain converged on him with a speed that was both graceful and predatory and put his pale hand on his shoulder, his long nails uncomfortably digging into Tom's flesh through his shirt. He flashed a broad smile towards him, the light gleaming off his teeth, which had begun to grow long and pointed.

"- _and the teeth._ " Tom thought as he made out the sharp fangs resting inside the man's mouth.

"How dare you keep me here bound and drugged, I will not fall victim to some lowly vampires' scheme to satiate his repulsive appetite. You'll live to regret this." He said through his clenched teeth as he tried to look towards his hands, searching desperately for his wand. His stomach burned angrily as he realized that neither his wand nor his suitcase were still in his position.

The vampire Germain chuckled softly as he pulled Tom's wand from his pocket, running his ashen hands over its stem. "You are no threat to me without this piece of wood. The words on your tongue will burn and fall like ash to the ground without this-" He waved the wand in front of Tom mockingly. "-Although I must say I am tempted to give it to you, I'm curious to see if you could even perform magic properly in your current state, I doubt it, but it would at least provide me with some amusement."

Tom bowed his head slightly, knowing the vampire had spoken the truth. He tried for a moment to practice what Lyra had taught him on the train, mustering all the strength he could feel in his body as he tried to perform a wandless spell, but it was no use. His body was too weak and debilitated from the poison to even cast properly.

Germain leaned over and spoke softly into his ear, Tom turned his head away in disgust at the metallic smell of blood on his breath. "I do appreciate your résoudre of course. But it is all in vain you must know, for why would a spider ever let a fly as ambrosial as you out of its web?"

* * *

Lyra walked towards the fountain hastily cursing under her breath. The task of finding rooms for them had proven to be more difficult than she had thought, she had forgotten that they had arrived on the cusp of St. John's Eve and during this time of year many flocked there to revel in the various parties and events that would be held across the city in less than a week.

" _That was absolutely absurd, I'm running so late._ " She thought as she made her way through the crowds and towards the fountain, irritated that the undertaking had made her more than twenty minutes late. She tried to shake her annoyance as she approached the large structure, craning her neck trying to see if she could spot Tom's dark figure against the crowd. She frowned when she arrived at where they had last spoken, surprised at his absence.

" _Strange…_ " She thought as she walked around the fountain peering into the sea of people, her eyes raking over the iron benches placed around the monument and into the nearby storefronts. " _He's not here…It doesn't seem to fit his personality to be late._ "

Lyra sighed as she leaned against the fountain, her eyes focused on the streets before her. " _But it IS like him to resent being told what to do…_ " She smoothed the wrinkles of her dress out as she placed her purse next to her. " _He's probably trying to test my patience._ "

Crossing her arms in front of her she watched as people passed in every direction, feeling her heart drop anxiously everytime a man walked past that resembled him. She felt her anger rise as the crowds started to dwindle, signaling how long she had been waiting for him to arrive and grabbed her purse furiously. " _So be it then. I'm done waiting for him, I'll go off on my own, I can't spend all day wasting precious time waiting for him to show up, I don't have that luxury._ "

Walking around the fountain angrily, she cursed him under her breath and turned to walk down the street opposite her, when an idea slowly crept into her mind. She bit her lip and stared down the decrepit street to her right, narrowing her eyes at the crumbling sign that read "Rue du Rouge".

" _No. I specifically told him to avoid that street. There's no way he would disregard my warnings again after the wendigo almost killed us both in Salem._ " Lyra shook her head dismissively and continued to walk past it, picking up her pace. She had gone almost a block down the road until she realized her pace had paused once more, a tugging feeling rising in her gut.

" _You know how arrogant he can be. What if he did go down Rue du Rouge?_ "

She turned around and walked hesitantly back up the block, her eyes focused on the gloomy and forlorn street, a nagging feeling settling its roots deep into her stomach.

" _If I don't atleast explore the possibility, this feeling is going to follow me around like a dark cloud the rest of the day._ "

She sucked her teeth, irritated that she even cared and pulled out her wand. "Appare Vestigium."

Lyra brought the wand up to her mouth and slowly blew on it, the particles of gold dust settling into the ground and shook angrily as she saw an illusion of Tom walking into the mist before her. She felt her stomach drop as she followed the mirror image of him quickly into the fog, half-knowing where it could possibly lead her.

" _Damnit. I hope he's not where I think he is. If so, I might already be too late._ "

She summoned her cloak from her purse and threw it around her quickly, pulling the hood far over her head to conceal herself as she glanced at the ramshackle storefronts, feeling all the warmth slip from her face as the sun disappeared. Walking past a few hooded figures who turned towards her suspiciously, she felt her heart pound steadily in her chest as she continued to follow the golden dust down the street, cursing him once more under her breath. She followed the apparition until it led her to a dark and secluded bar at the end of the street, Tom's golden shadow walking through the door and disappearing.

"Of all the times I wished I was wrong…" She muttered, reaching into her purse quickly and pulling out a small flask filled with a creamy milk-like liquid. Popping the cork off and holding her nose, she drank it quickly and gagged, the taste of garlic burning her esophagus as it trickled down her throat.

" _Here goes nothing..._ " Lyra thought as she walked towards the heavy door and pushed it open, her wand held steadily before her.

* * *

"If you release me, I could give you whatever you desire." Tom said sedately as he tried to maintain his composure, despite his heart beating wildly in his chest.

The vampire laughed as he walked around him and paced slowly back to his chair, gently sitting down. "You cannot offer me anything that I do not already possess and if I let you go, you'll try to kill me, of that I am sure."

Tom growled as he tried to move his body once more, exerting what little strength he had left.

"No. Your fate has been decided and although I have enjoyed our little talk, it is time for all of this to come to an end." Germain said softly, lazily raising his hand in the air as he motioned towards him. "Come my children, it is time for you to feast."

He watched in anguish as a multitude of pale and blurred figures emerged from the darkness, their glowing eyes staring at him hungrily under black hoods as they approached.

" _What should happen to me if my body expires here?_ " Tom thought back to his horcruxes grimly as he watched the vampire horde. They could protect him from death, yes, but not from bodily harm, this could not happen to him, especially here, so far away from his home. He closed his eyes as he tried to think of a way out of the situation as quickly as he could, his mind racing, when he suddenly heard the door beside him blast apart, shards of wood and metal flying through the air as they landed in front of him.

He watched through blurry eyes as a female figure walked towards him, her voice calm and familiar.

"Call your followers off, Germain"

" _Lyra? Could it be? But how?"_ He thought as he tried to follow her voice, wondering how it was that she had found him.

"Tom are you alright?" Lyra said as she made her way towards him her wand pointed at the vampires before them. She knelt down before him and watched as his head slumped down towards his chest sharply. She snapped her fingers in his face desperately as she tried to keep his focus. "Tom, wake up. Nod if you can hear me."

She watched as he weakly held his head up and nodded slowly. "Good. Can you follow my fingers?"

He groaned as he tried to make out her face, another wave of pain radiating through his skull. "No."

"Ah. Ms. Leroux...my slippery old friend." Germain said softly, his golden eyes resting calmly on her face as he flashed her a dangerous smile.

Lyra stood up as she turned to face the vampire. "What did you do to him?"

Germain laughed at her as she looked at him angrily. "We did nothing more than serve him a drink. You know the rules set in place that allow us to feast on those who enter our domain willingly."

"By a drink you mean poison. And I know the rules." She raised her wand calmly. "But you know as well as I do that it is illegal for you to drink wizards blood."

The vampire shrugged as he stood up from his chair and motioned for the others to take their place back towards the shadows. "Sometimes we must do what is necessary in order to sustain ourselves."

"MACUSA would be quite interested to hear that you no longer abide by their laws." She said as she stood in front of Tom, defensively. "If I remember correctly, the only reason you are allowed sanctuary here without persecution, is because you promised them you would not turn your appetites towards us."

"And I kept my promise-more or less." He smiled as he walked towards her. "Politics aside, what am I to do when my family is hungry and a meal as tempting as this walks in through our doors." Germain said as he eyed them both, pacing back and forth. "It is not my fault your friend was careless."

Lyra stared at the vampire and narrowed her eyes. "I'm not leaving without him."

Germain tilted his head back and laughed as he stared at her. "How I've missed that steel resolve of yours. What will you give me if I let him go?"

"This." She let out a frustrated growl as she summoned a large bottle sealed in wax from her purse and held it guardedly in her hand.

"What is that?" He asked humorously. "I do not drink wine, you know this."

She heard the vampires looming around them in the darkness laugh as he mocked her and scowled. "It is not wine. It is wizards blood-my blood. Perfectly preserved and still warm. Just as fresh as what you would have taken from him." She nodded in Tom's direction. "Probably more than what you would have originally gotten...I know that once a person succumbs to death, their blood is useless to you."

The vampire eyed her suspiciously as she rolled her eyes and tossed it to him. "If you don't believe me, see for yourself."

He caught the bottle carefully as he felt the warmth of its contents radiate through the wax and into his cold fingers.

"You can call me many things Germain but I have never once lied to you, I've helped you more times than I can count." She said softly.

He stared at her carefully as he sauntered back over to his seat. "This I know to be true, but what if I refuse your offer?"

Lyra narrowed her eyes as she muttered an incantation under her breath and watched as her wand filled the entire room with an intense bright light. Germain hissed as he covered his face, his skin smoking as he retreated into the darkness.

Tom looked away as the light blinded him, confused as to what was happening. " _She knows this monster?_ "

"Put it away! Put it away!" The vampire screamed from the shadows as she smiled and shook her wand to end the spell, listening to the hisses that threatened them from every direction.

"If you refuse my offer, I will blow a hole into your home large enough for the entire sun to shine in and I will sit here and watch as your whole legacy turns to ash."

Germain looked at her with disdain. "You wouldn't dare."

"You know that I would. And I'm sure MACUSA wouldn't mourn your passing."

He sat before her, his eyes ablaze with anger, glaring at her wand. "You leave me no choice but to accept your offer. Take this man and leave. But you must promise me that if I allow him to leave this place alive, he must not seek retribution."

She nodded in agreement as she smirked. "You have my word Jacques de St. Germain. No harm shall befall you or your family after this day from my hand or his." The vampire let out a half laugh as he raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Your words are always so binary. Tell me what it is you've already done to cause me harm."

"I'll need his wand back first." Lyra said as she held her hand outstretched hand towards him, watching as he held the small piece of wood in the palm of his hand. She summoned it quickly and caught it as she closed her fingers around it, tucking it safely into her cloak. She looked around and spoke once more "My friend had a suitcase as well. Where is it?"

Germain rolled his eyes as he motioned for it to be brought forward as another one if his pale companions emerged from the darkness, carefully placing it at his feet. "Take it. It's just as well. We couldn't unlock it despite our combined efforts, it seems your friend has secrets he wishes to keep hidden. Now. What is it you have done?"

She summoned the small case to her hand and grabbed it carefully, trying to ignore the vampire's words, as she bent down towards Tom, placing one of his arms around her neck, lifting him up off the chair he had been slumped in. He winced in pain as he felt her arms supporting his body, his vision becoming increasingly blurred as he felt his body grow weaker.

" _I need to get him somewhere safe so I can brew a draught to reverse all of this._ " She thought as she nodded her head in the undead creatures direction. "I'm sorry to tell you that you'll have to find someone else to run your tavern, I'm afraid the last barkeep you had wasn't quite as capable as you thought."

Germain growled with rage as he stood up and Lyra watched as the rest of the vampires slowly edged out from the darkness, walking and crawling towards them from every direction of the chamber. She raised her wand quickly and held onto Tom as she started to disapparate with him, leaving the room with a loud "CRACK!"

* * *

 **Well this one was a lot of fun to write, Vampires are an important myth in the culture of New Orleans culture and it's hard to go anywhere in the French Quarter without running into an advertisement for a Vampire Tour or something of the sort. I think if America had vampires, their largest number would definitely be in New Orleans. The lead vampire Germain is actually based on a true character in history, Jacques de St. Germain who has quite a cloud of mystery surrounding him, definitely a fascinating read if you want to look it up and read about it!**

 **Another cliffhanger in this chapter! Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it, next chapter soon to come! Please review, follow or favorite if you enjoyed! Stay safe everyone!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

CRACK!

Lyra apparated into a small side alleyway and felt Tom's weight lean against her body as she struggled to keep him on his feet. She peered across the road and stared at two residences that lay across from them, on the other side of the street and watched as people passed by them in every direction. The light of day was starting to fade and she breathed a sigh of relief as the crowds started to dwindle, night had finally overtaken the city. She frowned as she heard Tom moan and stared at him, her shoulder starting to ache under the load.

" _This would have been easier if our rooms were closer to Rue due Merveilles but I had forgotten about the holiday. We're lucky to have even gotten rooms in the outskirts of town. I'm just going to have to hope no one notices how bad of a shape he's in until we're safely inside._ "

She waited until a large group of people had passed and slowly walked out of the alleyway, pulling his dead weight across the street until they had stopped at the iron gates that closed the houses off from the sidewalk traffic. She began to pull her wand out slowly, but jumped when a man's voice startled her.

"You need any help missy? Your friend looks pretty bad."

Lyra turned around, her eyes falling on an older man, no-maj by the looks of it and shook her head, a forced smile tugging at her face. "Thanks for your concern, I'm afraid my friend just had a little too much to drink today, I'm just going to get him inside and get him into a nice cold bath."

The man smiled gently at her as he laughed and tipped his hat, "Alcohol makes fools of us all at some point or another. You have a nice day."

Her smile faded as she watched the man walk away and quickly glanced around their surroundings once more. The sun had almost finished setting in the sky and thankfully the street had seemed to be free of passersby, if only for a moment. Taking her wand out, she tapped the iron gate three times and stood back as she watched the two homes split apart suddenly , the sounds of wood and stone crumbling and groaning until a third building appeared in between them, crooked and warped with age. A small elaborate gate rose up from the ground and she tucked her wand gingerly inside her cloak, pushing the wrought iron door open with her free hand. Once inside, hidden from prying no-maj eyes, she closed it behind them and took a deep breath, disapparating as the night echoed from their departure.

* * *

They landed loudly in an outdoor hallway, the old warped wood creaking underneath her feet as she waved her wand towards a strange crooked door before her, pink and weather worn. It swung slowly inward and she winced as she tried to hoist Tom further up onto her shoulder, pulling him into the room, laying him down onto a small bed she had spotted against the wall.

Letting out a loud sigh of exasperation she quickly closed the door behind them and waved her wand towards the candles hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the room. She rubbed her shoulder gently to alleviate her pain as she looked around the chamber, it was small and bare save for the two other pieces of furniture in the drab space, a small aged wooden table, complete with a matching chair. She placed her purse down on the wooden table and quickly summoned her large wooden cabinet from within, waving her wand towards an empty corner in the room. The ground lurched as the heavy furniture touched the floor while she walked over towards a small door opposite the bed, swinging it open to find a small washroom and grabbed a few towels off the wall.

Tom groaned in pain again and she paused for a moment in hopes she would hear his voice, resuming her task at hand fervently as she was met with silence. Summoning a small clay bowl from her purse, she held it under the tap and waited until it had filled with warm water. Lyra removed her cloak quickly, tossing it over the chair as she carried the bowl and towels over to his bedside, gently sitting down next to him on the bed. "Tom can you still hear me?"

There was still no reply. Lyra frowned as she set the bowl of water down beside her. " _He's unresponsive, that's not a good sign._ "

Gently pressing the back of her hand to his forehead, she withdrew her hand at the feeling of the intense heat underneath it.

" _He's burning up._ " She thought to herself as she dipped a clean cloth into the water and wrung it out, placing it softly on his forehead. " _I don't know what they put in his wine, but they did not have his survival in mind when they gave it to him. Normally I would have assumed it was a paralyzing draught of some kind but if that was the case it should have worn off by now. This is a poison and a very strong one at that, knowing Germain and his ilk I wouldn't be surprised if it was one to keep the blood warm even after death._ "

She heard Tom let out another soft noise as she got up from the bed and looked around the room. Unlike their accommodations in Salem, these rooms did not have hearths, which made potion brewing slightly less convenient.

" _I'll just have to make do with what I brought with me_."

Waving the tip of her wand around in her purse she pulled her cauldron out from her bag as well as a small portable metal basin filled with wood that she set up on the table, flicking her wand towards it. A small flame leaped from the tip of her wand onto the wood and she fed the fire until it was large enough to place her cauldron on. Lyra quickly summoned a small book from her bag, placing it next to her as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the potion she needed.

" _I need to regulate his body temperature before I can even begin to figure out how to neutralize the poison's effects on his body…"_ Her finger tapped a page suddenly when she realized she had founded what she was looking for and read it quickly to see what ingredients she would need. Walking towards the cabinet she ripped open its doors quickly, pulling out vials and glass jars and setting them neatly down beside her, pouring each ingredient one by one into the cauldron.

" _Thankfully, this potion won't take long to brew, twenty minutes at most._ " Lyra thought as she stirred the contents carefully, watching as the liquid turned a pale blue, nodding in satisfaction as she walked back over to Tom's side.

" _Arrogant fool._ " She thought as she frowned and sat down next to him once more, dipping the towel back into the water before placing it back onto his forehead. She felt the anger in her stomach rise as she looked at his face and looked away in frustration. " _If he had listened to me, none of this would have happened. Instead I'm here wasting valuable time trying to make sure he doesn't die._ "

She sucked her teeth in annoyance as she sat up from the bed, wrapping her arms around her. " _I should have let him die, it would have served him right. Plus, it would have enabled me to be free in my pursuits._ " Walking over to a small window in the room, she ran her fingers over the small wooden shutters that were closed and opened them, feeling the fresh night air on her face. She looked back towards him and observed him curiously, guilt creeping into her stomach as she argued with herself silently. " _You shouldn't be so cold. He didn't let you die...he could have._ "

Shaking her head indignantly she walked over to the potion once more and stirred it, staring into the cauldron absent-mindedly. " _He saved me because he needed me. That's all...and he ended up blackmailing me in the process._ "

Lyra rubbed the perspiration from her forehead as she walked over to the cabinet, grabbing a small sprig of mint. " _Yes. He blackmailed you, but where would you be without his help?_ " She threw the sprig of mint into the cauldron and stirred it three times as it gurgled and emitted a small mist, the rim of the cauldron suddenly covered in cold frost. Turning towards her purse she grabbed a small glass from within and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it with the icy liquid. Her hand trembled at the cold chill that radiated throughout her bones as she carried it over to him.

"I'd probably be feasting on someone right now." She murmured as she rolled her eyes and sat down next to him, propping his head up on the pillow. " _He's still alive, but barely…_ "

Lyra grabbed his mouth gently and opened it, slowly administering the potion to him in small manageable doses. He coughed deeply as he drank and she waited for him to finish before starting once more. Satisfied with the amount she had gotten down his throat, she placed the glass down and stared at his sweat soaked face. With a small delicate hand, she gingerly brushed back the dark hair that was stuck to his forehead and grabbed another towel, dipping into the water and absentmindedly started to wipe the beads of perspiration that rolled down his cheeks. Suddenly aware of her actions, a blush rose up her cheeks and she tossed the towel aside quickly, walking across the room to forage through her bag once more.

" _His fever should come down soon. I need to figure out how to get the poison out of his system. I have no idea what it is so I need to make sure what I brew doesn't do more harm than good._ " She pulled another book from her purse and placed it next to her as she retrieved the potion Tom had helped her with, taking a long sip from the bottle before setting it down before her. Grabbing the book carefully, she opened up its heavy leather cover to reveal its index, running her fingers along the list of chapters until she tapped on an item of interest.

" _Antidote for Common Poisons...page 356_ " She repeated to herself as she flipped through the book furiously, anxious to see if this remedy would prove hopeful. Finding the page she sought, she started to read the purpose and ingredients, her eyes furrowing in frustration as she bit her lip.

" _This potion is painfully ordinary...Bezoar. Unicorn Horn. Mistletoe berries? The other two seem fine...but I'm not sure if mistletoe berries will be potent enough for this, perhaps if I added a few drops of salamander blood..._ "

Lyra flipped through a few more pages and growled in frustration. Almost every potion known to wizard kind was in that book and still there was nothing that came even close to being a potential cure for Tom's affliction. She tapped her finger slowly on the table and stared at the emerald potion that sparkled against the candlelight in front of her. Staring at it's ethereal glow, she raised her eyebrows in surprise, a delightful gasp escaping her lips as a curious idea popped into her mind.

" _Tom's strange potion ingredient! I still have the vial, I wonder if there's any left. It's a long shot, but if there is…_ "

She rooted through her cabinet until she came upon the empty glass, raising it up to the candlelight as she held her breath. Lyra laughed in delight as she noticed the vial still contained a tiny amount of dust and grabbed the other items for the potions she would need.

" _It's not much but it should work, there wasn't a lot to begin with, so this should be plenty for at least a small batch!_ "

She bent over her cauldron and muttered "Scourgify!", nodding in satisfaction at the clean interior and adjusted the fire below as she started to add her potion ingredients.

* * *

Thirty minutes had passed and Lyra peered into the cauldron, wrinkling her nose at the odor of the crushed bezoar and grabbed a bottle labeled 'Unicorn Horns'.

"One pinch of unicorn horns…" She said as she shook the bottle into the cauldron, stirring it twice before adding two mistletoe berries. She stirred it two times counterclockwise before grabbing the vial Tom had given her and poured whatever had been left into the simmering potion.

" _Here's to hoping…_ " she thought as she waved her wand over the cauldron and took a step back, grabbing another glass off the table. Filling it slowly she wrinkled her nose again at the smell and held the cup away from her, walking over towards Tom. She felt his forehead once more and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized he was no longer warm to the touch.

" _Good. Now that his fever has broken, I can give him this antidote and hopefully it'll eliminate the poison._ "

She poured a few drops of the foul smelling liquid into his mouth and grimaced in disgust as she went back to administer a few more mouthfuls before placing it beside him. Lyra stared at his face curiously as she turned away and looked towards the window. " _Why do I suddenly care so much if he lives or dies. This isn't like me."_

Leaving his bedside carefully she peered out into the night, looking up at the sky as she continued to ponder what had been lingering in the back of her mind all night. " _I've never much felt the need to look after anyone, so I don't understand why his life matters to me, especially after the way he threatened me. He doesn't trust me and although I've tried I'm not so sure I can trust him either."_

A soft breeze blew into the room and caressed her cheek as she sighed. " _Ever since that night we encountered the wendigo he's been different. Still secretive and devious in some ways but otherwise oddly...pleasant to be with._ "

She thought back to his dry humour while they had traveled, her impromptu lesson where she had taught him wandless magic and what had transpired between them earlier in the day. When they had first begun travelling with one another she had instantly regretted her offer, finding him to be pompous and strange, all of which made her yearn for solitude. But there were moments, in between all the annoying occurrences, where he had shown her unusual acts of kindness, something to which she was unaccustomed, never having received them before. These small changes in his behavior confused her and it was causing her a great deal of conflict, constantly forcing her to choose between her familiar inclination towards apathy and her new found feelings of sentimentality.

" _Perhaps he's doing this on purpose to toy with me…_ " She thought as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking back towards his still unconscious body lying on the bed. Rubbing her temples as she walked over to the chair, she shut her eyes in frustration, tired of her musings. " _Regardless of what his intentions may be and how I feel, his lack of discretion towards both of our safety must be dealt with. I can't continue to bail him out of every situation his poor judgment places us in._ "

Waving her hand delicately at her purse she grabbed the book that she had been reading on the train, trying to distract herself until he finally woke from his affliction.

* * *

The air was still and the flames atop the candles barely flickered as Tom awoke slowly from his sleep, anticipating the pain that was likely to start filling his skull, but it did not come. He was surprised to find that not only was his head no longer filled with sharp aches, but his skin was dry, the cold sweat that had plagued him gone as well.

" _Where am I?_ " He thought as he raised his hand to his face, grinning with delight as he realized he was in control of his body once more. He tried to think back to the last thing he remembered before he had faded out of consciousness and recalled seeing Lyra burst into the underground den the vampires had brought him to, her concerned face before his as she bartered for his life.

" _She saved my life...again._ " He thought as he sat up in bed, rubbing his forehead, trying to make out where she had taken him. A sudden feel of rage and dread overwhelmed him as his mind raced quickly to his belongings, swinging his legs quickly over the side of the bed.

"Your suitcase is here...untouched. Lie back...you need to rest."

He watched carefully as Lyra walked towards him, closing the book in her hand as she placed it on the foot of his bed. "That poison really did a number on you. It took two potions to get you to where you are now."

"What was all that?" He asked softly, trying to catch her eyes, feeling a strange twinge in his stomach when he realized she would not look at him.

"You walked right into a vampire den, probably the most dangerous one in all of New Orleans. Jacques de St. Germain is not normally a reasonable figure to deal with. You're lucky I was able to find you, even luckier than I was able to get you out of there alive."

"He seemed to know you quite well." Tom said curiously, trying to bait her into turning towards him.

"I've had business with him before." She said, her answer vague and disappointing as her gaze averted him.

He remained silent for a moment before he spoke once more, gently. "I suppose a thank you is in order for saving my life. It was foolish of me to have gone."

"Yes. It was foolish and ignorant and egotistical." Lyra said coldly as she turned away from him. "I specifically told you NOT to go down Rue du Rouge. Not because I was trying to keep anything from you, but because I knew there was nothing that street had to offer you. We wasted valuable time today Tom and I don't know how much time I have to spare."

"It didn't seem particularly unusual to me at first." He lied as he cocked his head towards her.

"Tom, I know you to be exceptionally gifted when it comes to magic, but when it comes to this country you remain woefully ignorant." She sighed as she picked her book up from the foot of the bed. "Until you're familiar with where you are, you should take my advice."

She opened her purse and waved her wand above her head as her possessions flew into the open bag, the contents of the cauldron emptying themselves into an open flagon before whizzing past her head and into her hand.

He stared at her impassively as she spoke, his insides burning with anger and remorse. "I'm not a child, don't address me as such." He said furiously.

"No, you're worse than a child. You're an adult who is under the delusion that nothing you do has consequences, that you're so extraordinary nothing can harm you. Wake up and smell the reality and humility the rest of us have to cope with." She shook her head as she continued.

"The most concerning part of today's entire situation is that you've made it perfectly clear to me that you still don't trust me and you don't value my intelligence." She placed the bottle of potion next to him and grabbed her cape from the table, fastening it over her shoulders as she reached into its pocket, retrieving his wand.

She placed it on the table gently as she shook her head. "There may come a time when we both need to rely on each other to get what we want and right now I'm not feeling very confident about a scenario like that."

He tried to calm the rage that consumed his body, knowing it would only prove counterproductive to his cause, instead, he continued to brood and stare at her furiously. He knew it would be beneficial for him to open his mouth to offer an apology or anything that would convince her otherwise, but could not find it in himself to say the words. He instead tried to change the subject.

"When will you return?"

She turned towards the door, refusing to look at him as she glanced over her shoulder. "A few days perhaps. I, like you, also value my solitude and you will need some time to regain your strength. Time would not be put to use properly if the both of us stay here and do nothing, I'll use the opportunity to figure out where we both need to be in this city to make the most of this trip."

Lyra opened the door and paused before she walked out of the room, speaking softly. "You sought me out Tom because you needed my help, not the other way around. If you want to prove to me that trust can live between us, do not leave this room until I come back."

He watched as she closed the door softly behind her and felt a murderous rage well up inside of him. His little adventure down Rue de Rouge had almost cost him everything and although he was relieved she had come to his aid, the embarrassment of it all was too much for him to bear. He had let his arrogance lead him into a dangerous situation from which there had almost been no escape.

Tom felt his hands curl into fists as his contempt continued to eat away at him, laying bare his inadequacies and feelings of contrition.

" _How dare she talk to me in such a manner, like a common fool._ " He laid back into the bed as he felt a wave of dizziness overtake him, a side effect from his road to recovery. " _I've ended others miserable lives for far less._ "

Still, his quick temper and intimidation would not aid him in matters such as this and although his pride had been wounded, he had no choice but to let it go.

" _She's right. My own curiosities have cost us valuable time and I've acted against even my own interests_." He grimaced at his realization and looked over towards the open window. " _I've undone everything I've worked towards, if she doesn't trust me then I won't get anywhere. I can't allow that to happen._ "

He felt a twinge of regret stir inside of him as he thought back to how he had felt when she refused to even look upon him and it made him feel strangely angry. He recalled his thoughts from earlier on that day, when he had first entered Rue du Rouge and of his realization that he had started to become accustomed to her company. What had initially started as a way to achieve his means had become altered, skewed and had transformed into something else entirely without his permission. He had initially been ashamed at the feelings that had started to arise in him, despising what he had worked his whole life to avoid, attachment and attraction to another, a clear distraction that could possibly hinder his future endeavors.

" _This newfound interest doesn't have to turn into an obstacle._ " He thought carefully as he lay there in bed, staring out into the open depths of the night. " _If I could convince her that she could lay her trust in me, the possibilities of my advancement could be endless._ "

Tom smirked as he finally felt a flood of relief wash over him, he no longer had to fight between his priorities and his conflicting internal curiosities, if he played his cards correctly he could have everything he wanted and more.

* * *

 **Nice little in between chapter before the two of them start off on their journey once more. Although Tom has his horcruxes, his physical body would still have a hard time dealing with poison or physical pain. It'll be fun to see where both of their internal conflicts lead them, I think Tom would definitely be uncomfortable and unsure about enjoying the company of other people, but as with everything we've read in every Harry Potter book he was a master of manipulation and founds ways to appeal to everyone that followed him, each had their own reason. If Tom Riddle hadn't learned to charm others, he wouldn't have gotten as far enough to even become Lord Voldemort, I even think that he would find a way to spin his own insecurities into a way to achieve his ends. More to be revealed about some of Lyra's past in upcoming chapters and we'll start to see some more dark magic Tom is destined to learn. Hope everyone enjoyed, please review, follow and fav! Xx**

 **-Kiracalico**

 **Yes Tom definitely has a knack for trouble, I think that especially if someone told him not to do something he would do it just to spite them, because in his arrogance he always seems to make mistakes like in the book series...so who am I to break the cycle? (HAHA) I love New Orleans, it's one of my favorite travel destinations and it is truly such a magical place in person. I think if there was any place in America that would appeal to Tom's dark magical taste, it would be there. In this story we'll definitely learn a lot more of Lyra's backstory, a lot of her habits, her talents and indifference will make more sense when everything comes to light. Tom might find in her more of a kindred spirit than he might realize, usually when we as people tend to make friends or like others it's because we see a small reflection of ourselves in that person.**


	29. Chapter 29

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

"Damnit." Lyra muttered under her breath as she exited the dark and dingy atmosphere of a shop into the hot New Orleans air, mentally crossing it off her list. " _I've been at this for a day and a half now and I've yet to find out where she's been hiding now-a-days…I've visited over ten different businesses that I knew over the past that have been linked to her and I've gotten nothing._ "

She frowned in frustration as she sat down on a nearby bench, grabbing a flask filled with water and raising it up to her lips, cursing the heat silently in her head. Usually the weather wouldn't have had an effect on her mood, but between recent events and her mounting failures trying to find the only person in New Orleans she knew who would be able to assist them, her patience was wearing thin. " _If it wasn't for the approaching holiday, I'm sure this wouldn't be half as difficult._ "

The city was bustling and crowds of people lined the streets, elaborate flowers adorned every balcony, ribbons were wrapped around wrought iron fences and draped around street shops whose window displays were covered in altars of blue and white candles. Lyra watched as people laughed and smiled as they walked past her, full of happiness and joy as they went about their lives and she frowned bitterly, wishing she could remember the last time she had been as ignorantly blissful. A man walked past her, tall and pale with dark features and she frowned as her mind quickly went to a place where she wished it hadn't. She watched as he smiled and walked over to the sidewalk where a young witch and child waited, waving at him eagerly.

" _I wonder if I was too harsh on Tom…_ "

She rolled her eyes and stood up, walking aimlessly down the street as she fed into her nagging thoughts.

" _No. You only spoke the truth. If he continues to act so recklessly, you might never get a chance to be normal again...There's no time for all these little mishaps in between. It's counterproductive to everything you both seek._ "

She wandered along the street and scowled as she looked towards the shop in front of her, narrowing her eyes at the golden woodwork around it's windows, the building lavender and luxurious, its storefront filled with various wands that sparked and flew around behind the glass. Her gaze moved towards the old wooden placard that hung above its doorway, neatly painted, its elegant script wrapped around itself.

" _ **Beauvais' Wands, Handcrafted & Handmade in New Orleans, Circa 1900**_."

A sprawling script scribbled itself across the window as it flashed and disappeared, re-writing itself in an infinite loop. " _ **Why try the rest, when you could have the best?**_ "

Lyra muttered in disdain as she continued down the street, her hand reaching in towards her pocket as she grasped her mother's wand. She had made more than enough money after she had graduated Ilvermorny to buy herself a wand that would have belonged to only herself alone, but for some odd reason she never had. Instead, she found herself making excuses, avoiding the various wand shops across the country, holding tightly onto a wand that fought her every instinct.

" _It's gotten me this far, hasn't it?_ "

She stopped as a nagging curiosity rose in her gut and she turned to look around at the wand shop once more, narrowing her eyes as she walked hesitantly back towards it. " _Violet Beauvais is one of the most influential witches in all of New Orleans...I wonder…_ "

As she approached the beautifully ornate door to the shop, she grabbed the golden doorknob and paused, holding her breath before she turned it gently and pushed the door inwards, entering the small boutique. Lyra looked around at her surroundings, the shop was neat and clean, the floors polished and shining brilliantly against the sunlight that beamed across it from outside the busy glass windows. The walls were neatly stacked with small golden boxes that seemed to go on endlessly, wands zooming in and out of each one as she heard a voice with a heavy New Orleans' accent call out to her.

"I'll be down in a moment! Help yourself to some water and touch NOTHING."

Lyra watched as a glass pitcher set atop a small table covered in white lace and crushed velvet poured its contents into a small cup, which floated over delicately to her. She shook her hand towards it dismissively as she looked at a dark wooden spiral staircase before her, her eyes tracing it's delicate shape upwards to see where the voice had come from. Without hesitation, she placed one foot onto the staircase, prepared to climb it when a small golden picture frame to right caught her attention. As she tried to lean closer to make out whom the portrait was of, she felt a small droplet of water hit her face and turned around, rolling her eyes as the floating glass clumsily bumped up against her head for attention. She waved it away in frustration.

" _If only they would make bewitching inanimate objects illegal, the world would be a less irritating place. Not everything needs to be done with magic._ "

She scoffed and looked back towards the photo, tilting her head curiously. It was old, the paper of the photograph crinkled and aged and showed a large group of wizards and witches, smiling and waving their hands towards her.

" _The creme de la creme of New Orleans society._ " Lyra mused. "... _or at least what used to be._ "

She moved closer to look at the faces and focused on the woman in the middle, tall and beautiful, with high cheekbones and dark skin, her hair elegantly styled atop her head, a silk scarf woven throughout it as bright and colorful as the robes she donned. Lyra's eyes glanced over some of the other wizards, the men all middle-aged with neat little beards, handsomely dressed in suits and top hats, sneering condescendingly at her, while her gaze finally settling on a smaller woman towards the side, her skin dark and smooth as well, wearing robes of the lightest purple, her hair arranged in neat ringlets that cascaded down from her head. She smiled as she held a few gold boxes in one hand and a wand in the other.

" _That must be-_ " Thoughts interrupted, Lyra stifled a slew of profanities as she suddenly felt water run down her back and turned around angrily, whipping her wand out to finally rid herself of the troublesome glass of water and stopped when she found herself eye to eye with the famed owner of the wand shop herself, Violetta Beauvais.

The small witch raised an eyebrow as she looked at Lyra, raising her wand towards the glass and watching as it returned to the small table behind them. "How can I help you?"

Lyra glanced over the witch as she recognized the familiar light purple robes and the head of wild hair that hung around her head like a loose fitting crown, while she carefully chose her words. "I'm looking for someone. Being as important and influential as you are in this community, I wondered if you would be able to point me in the right direction."

Sucking her teeth in disapproval she looked at Lyra matter-of-factly and spoke once more. "Introductions before demands my dear... and you are?"

She observed the older witch, her waist had expanded slightly, her dark hair speckled with gray, but she was still the same pretty woman from the photograph. Watching and stepping aside suddenly as a slew of boxes and wands zoomed past her face, she spoke quietly. "My name is Lyra... forgive me if assume correctly that you are-"

"Ms. Violetta Beauvais." The witch said as she raised an eyebrow hautely, placing a hand on her hip.

"Right." Lyra said as she crossed her arms before her and tapped an impatient finger against her arm. "Back to my question earlier, I was wondering-"

The witch seemed to disregard her words as she turned around and placed a few boxes back to where they had come from, waving her hand dismissively towards Lyra as she spoke. "Your wand Lyra. It is not one of mine...although, I have a feeling it does not belong to you."

Lyra eyed the witch carefully as she tapped her finger on her arm once more. "It was my mother's." She felt her insides burn angrily at her own response.

"I see…" The small witch said as she walked towards Lyra, her eyes twinkling with a condescending smugness. "May I?" She pointed towards Lyra's wand with a smooth dark hand.

"I hardly see why that's necessary." Lyra said coldly as she tightened her grip on her wand.

The small witch shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. "Now if you're going to be difficult you can leave, you know where the door is."

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she slowly relaxed her grasp on the piece of wood and held it out to Ms. Beauvais reluctantly. The older witch smiled and quickly scooped it from her hands holding it out as she inspected it carefully, pulling a strange looking monocle out of her pocket and placing it over her right eye, tweaking it as she held the wand closer to her face, muttering to herself. "Mhmm..Aha. I thought so. Very strange indeed. Not often you see one of these."

Ms. Beauvais placed the monocle back into her pocket and placed the wand back gingerly into Lyra's outstretched hand.

"Not often you see one of what?" Lyra said, raising her eyebrow skeptically.

"That right there is a Quintana wand. Very rare indeed...only a few left seeing that he's dead. I myself have only seen a few in my life."

"I hardly see that a piece of wood-"

"Wood? Oh no my dear that is not only wood." Ms. Beauvais said as she laughed at Lyra. "That wand is made from bone as well...a spine from the White River Monster."

Lyra looked down at the wand in her hand and placed it back into her pocket quickly.

"Intriguing. Now then back to what I was saying earlier-"

"Impressive wand indeed, but for you my dear, it is not correct at all. I can feel a lot of energy radiating from you and that wand simply won't do. Now let me see, I think I have a few wands lying about that might suit you perfectly…"

Lyra lost her patience as the witch suddenly disappeared and she sucked her teeth in agitation. " _I don't have time for all of this nonsense._ "

Ms. Beauvais reappeared again above the top of the spiral staircase, motioning for Lyra to follow. "Up here girl. Quickly now."

Lyra rolled her eyes and made her way up the staircase, looking at all of the old photographs that lined the wall, when she saw another that immediately caught her attention. She watched as a portrait of the young wandmaker smiled at her and nodded her head, laughing and holding a woman next to her, the same woman she had seen in the photograph downstairs, tall and stately, her hair wrapped up in elegant fabric that made her cheekbones even stronger. She quickly took the photograph off the wall and continued upstairs at Ms. Beauvais' insistence.

Once at the top of the landing, the witch grabbed her and suddenly placed a wand into her open hand, clasping her palms together eagerly. "Try this one! A bit bendy I know, but it might be perfect for you!"

Lyra placed the wand down carefully as she held the photograph out towards Ms. Beauvais."This is who I seek. From this photograph it appears to me that you are quite close with her. Can you help me?"

The witch frowned as her smile faded, looking into Lyra's strange eyes. "So this is who you seek, I'm not surprised. I sense a great darkness in you child. A darkness that might not be made better by being acquainted with such a person. I cannot help you."

Lyra's face soured at the witches refusal. "You can't help me or you won't?"

Sighing as she sat down in an elegant chair next to a small desk, she looked at Lyra curiously. "If I could help you, it wouldn't be of any use. She does not entertain visitors often and when she does, they are required to present her with certain trinkets, objects of desire. I doubt you hold anything that she might want."

Lyra stared at the woman before her. "That is neither here nor there. All I am asking of you is to point me in her direction. If she refuses me then that is on my own head."

Ms. Beauvais sighed and chuckled softly, creases forming at the corner of her eyes as she smiled at Lyra. "You're a persistent one."

"So I've been told."

"It's only because I admire those qualities that I'll help you...for a price."

Lyra rolled her eyes. " _It always comes down to a bargain. Why am I not surprised?_ "

"Name your price. I assure you I can pay it."

The woman smiled at her as she chuckled once more. "I'm not interested in lump sums. I have enough money to last a lifetime."

"If not money, what is it that you want?"

"It is a matter of pride." Ms. Beauvais said as she stood up and walked towards the small pile of golden boxes that she had arranged neatly onto her desk as she walked over towards the wand Lyra had placed aside and set it down neatly into a velvet lined box, closing the lid gently. "I have seen many wizards and witches and I have sold many wands, but to let someone who possesses such natural inclinations as you out of my shop without a purchase, isn't acceptable to me."

"I have a wand already." Lyra said flatly, looking at the boxes in front of her. "I'm in no need of another."

"Yes, you have _A_ wand." The witch continued as she waved her hand dismissively towards her once more. "But not a wand that is suited to _you_ , to _your capabilities_."

Lyra remained silent as she considered the proposition. " _Don't be foolish. This is the only person who's entertained your request and the price is nothing compared to what you were willing to pay...to let this slip by because of sheer sentiment-"_

"My work is my life and I take great pride in the accomplishments my wands have achieved." Ms. Beauvais sniffed as she looked at her, waiting for an answer.

She let out a sigh of exasperation as she nodded stiffly in agreement, watching as the wandmaker clasped her hands together in joy.

"The location first, please." Lyra said as she tapped her finger on a box impatiently.

"Of course, of course, but I must warn you again of her fickle nature. Even I have been turned away on occasion, simply because she did not feel like it. Make sure you do not go empty handed." Ms. Beauvais whipped her wand out and waved it elegantly at her desk and Lyra watched as a small quill dipped itself into ink and scribbled gently onto a small piece of parchment, which rolled itself up and floated towards Lyra, who read it and nodded, placing it carefully into her purse.

"Now then," she said as she pulled Lyra up from her seat and placed a small, black delicate wand in her hands. "Let's try this one first shall we?"

* * *

Tom ran his hands through his hair as he leaned back in the small chair in his bare desolate room, placing the book he had been reading down before him. He flexed his jaw in frustration as he looked out the window that he had kept open, the sun casting its rays onto the old warped wooden floor.

" _I know she had said she wouldn't return for a few days...but I had hoped she would have returned by now._ "

The second day was almost at a close and he found himself growing increasingly impatient as he frittered his time away in his room, waiting for her return. If it were under any other circumstance he would have been out in the open air, exploring the city and entertaining his whims, but he knew her trust and aid was more valuable to him, her conditions made clear before she had left.

" _If you want to prove to me that trust can live between us, do not leave this room until I come back_."

He let out a small laugh at his self-inflicted punishment as he stood up from the table, beginning to pace around the room. " _How would she even know if I left?_ " He walked over to the dreary looking door and pulled it open, raising his wand carefully. " _Perhaps she's placed a few spells that would alert her should I step outside these doors._ "

"Specialis Revelio." He murmured as he flicked his wand towards the door frame and waited in anticipation. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when nothing happened and walked through the door hesitantly, feeling the warm sun on his face. He laughed again at the sheer absurdity of her trust and felt his smile fade as the moment passed and looked around the outside walkway his room was on.

There were two rooms across a large fifty foot gap that sat between them, a third room directly next to his, a warped wooden pathway connecting them all that led to two staircases, one upwards and one down. He peered over the railing that prevented him from falling into the large square crevice and glanced down.

There were many floors that lay stacked beneath him, each identical to his, that led downwards and gave off the appearance of an old, winding staircase. Ten flights down on the ground floor in the center of them all, lay a large courtyard surrounded by flowers and benches, Tom could make out a few witches and wizards as they walked in and out of the garden. As he tilted his head upwards and leaned over the railing, he could make out three additional floors above them, the sunlight blinding his vision as he quickly looked away.

" _What a peculiar place…_ "

He scowled as he thought back to Lyra's folly, unable to understand why she had left his room without laying a charm or spell to inform her of his deceit.

" _Perhaps not all was lost in my carelessness._ " He said to himself as he pushed himself up off the railing, walking back into his room as he closed the door gently behind him.

" _Since my future endeavors in this country depend on whether she believes she can trust me or not, I must remain in this room and bide my time, despite my every urge to defy her…"_

He looked to the desk and saw his wand laying perfectly still, the sunlight gleaming off it's smooth white surface. Walking over and picking it up carefully, he twirled it around his fingers, lost in meditation until he smiled, opening his suitcase and placing it carefully inside.

" _Still...not all is a waste. I have things I can preoccupy my time with..._ "

He closed his eyes and thought back to their impromptu lesson on the train and tried to recreate the electrifying feeling that had consumed his body as he silently summoned the book over from the table to his hand. He smirked as he looked down, placing it back over on the table and tried it once more successfully, pleased to find that he had finally mastered summoning objects without the aid of his wand.

" _Perhaps something a little more difficult now…_ "

Tom focused on the candles above him in the room as he felt the magic around him slowly course through his body and waved his hand, watching them all light one by one. He smiled as he waved his hand once more, expecting them to extinguish just as quickly and let out a frustrated growl as the candles suddenly burst, spraying wax all over the room. Wiping the residue from his face he scowled and thought back to what Lyra has said, closing his eyes, as he let out a deep breath.

" _Try it one more time. I told you this takes practice. It's frustrating...but you just have to keep at it._ "

" _Scourgify!_ " He mouthed silently, feeling the tips of his fingers tingle with electricity. Opening his eyes slowly, a small laugh escaped his lips as he looked around the now neat and clean room, free of the candle debri.

A wave of dizziness suddenly hit his body and he sat down on the bed, carefully leaning against the headboard as he waited for it to pass.

" _That damned poison, my body is taking longer to heal from than I thought it would…_ "

He leaned his head back as he recounted his progress with wandless magic, feeling pleased with himself. A small bird landed on the window and looked at Tom while it hopped around, cheerfully tweeting and whistling as it basked in the sunlight. He tried to ignore the noise, instead focusing on his accomplishments.

" _To think I almost thought it out of reach…_ " Tom recounted how he had almost given up on the train, his embarrassment and anger when the talent had not come to him naturally, like so many others things had done and how she had forced him to continue. He grimaced as he found his thoughts straying back to her once more and found himself unable to concentrate on anything else. He smirked as he stared at his hands and muttered another small incantation under his breath, watching as the small bird suddenly stopped chirping and fell to the floor lifeless.

" _Lyra, you have no idea how valuable you've started to become to me..._ "

* * *

 **Hey all! Sorry this chapter took a little longer to post than the last few have, it's been a long week. Parts of this chapter were super fun to write (ie: Lyra's whole experience in the wand shop with Violetta Beauvais), some parts came a little harder for me. Soon we'll get to meet the "she" Lyra keeps referring to and Tom will get to leave his room ;). Little memo on the last few lines of this chapter, I had to throw something terrible in there to remind everyone that this is NOT a redemption story for Tom, although occasionally charming, he's still cruel and calculating and is still destined to become Voldemort. That being said, hope you guys enjoyed it!**

 **Thank you to everyone who started following! For those of you who have just hopped aboard with reading, don't forget to follow, fav & review!**

 **Amelia - Thank you for your kind review! I always try to update at least once a week, so stay tuned! Thank you so much for your feedback, I appreciate it so much, it's very motivating!**

 **xxx**


	30. Chapter 30

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing from J.K Rowling's world except for my o/c's and my own story line itself.**

* * *

Lyra let out an exasperated sigh, making her way back onto the street from the shop, hearing the door lock behind her as she watched the sun start to set in the sky. She looked down towards the golden box in her hands and slowly opened her purse to slip it inside.

" _I'm glad all that's over. That turned into more of an ordeal than I had thought it would be, but at least my inkling was correct._ "

She placed her hand into her pocket and ran her fingers alongside her original wand, grasping it tightly as she made her way down the street. It still didn't feel right to discard it or simply retire it, it had proven useful to her for many years and although her new wand suited her considerably more than her original ever had, she still felt a strange loyalty towards it.

" _Perhaps in time…_ " She thought as she wandered aimlessly through the streets of Rue du Merveilles. The day had been daunting and her mind drifted off endlessly as she walked, reminiscing upon many subjects she wished it would not.

As she walked, lost in her thoughts, a delicious smell caught her attention from a small stand up ahead and she felt her stomach rumble in response.

" _I can't remember the last time I ate something…I should if I want to keep my strength up._ "

Walking up to the small cart, she smiled slightly at the short, stout wizard that stood behind it and picked out a few items from the assortment that he sold, handing him a few dragots.

" _I suppose it's about time I headed back to check on Tom...I want to act quickly on this lead before she decides to vacate that spot as well._ "

Carrying the two bags of food carefully, she pulled out her wand and stepped down a side alley, disapparating into thin air.

* * *

Tom narrowed his eyes in concentration as he continued to practice a spell silently in his head, focused on the glass of water before him and watched as it started to tremble and shake. He repeated the spell once more verbally, waving his hand in a light fluid motion.

"Confringo!"

The cup shattered immediately, shards of glass lay on the floor in pools of water as he slowly twitched his fingers towards the debri, muttering quietly.

"Speculus Reparo!"

He watched as the glass shards slowly lifted themselves off the floor and floated towards each other, the cup mending itself and becoming whole once more. Tom smirked at his success, but felt his smile start to fade as he heard clapping and turned around to find Lyra leaned against the doorway.

"Well done Tom."

She closed the door behind her softly as she crossed the room, his eyes stalking her every movement as she placed one bag down onto the table and walked towards him, holding the other bag out and motioned for him to take it.

"I figured you'd be hungry so I brought you dinner. I noticed all the other meals I sent for you are still...untouched." she glanced at the table, the bags of food piled atop each other in a large heap.

"I wasn't hungry." He said softly as he reluctantly opened the bag to peer inside, wrinkling his nose at the strange scents that accosted him.

She shrugged as she reached into the bag and pulled out a morsel of food, placing it into her mouth. "It's muffaletta...very delicious actually. You should try it."

Tom remained silent as he sat down on the bed and placed the bag beside him, continuing to stare at her emotionlessly.

Lyra looked at him as she placed another bite in her mouth and put the bag back on the table, tapping her fingers impatiently on the desk. "You stayed in your room."

"You told me I should if we were to continue on." He said disdainfully, narrowing his eyes.

"I did."

"You didn't believe I would."

"I believed that you would make the decision that best suited you." She said softly as she turned her attention to the open window, watching the moon ascend into the night sky.

Tom flexed his jaw as he thought quietly to himself. " _The decision that would best suit me involves a situation that no longer requires you, but of course that isn't possible. I didn't have a choice."_

He watched her carefully, thinking of a response. " _Self vindication is useless to me, if I were to tell her something she'd want to hear, it might prove more beneficial._ "

"I believe I owe you an apology for my foolishness. I'm S-"

"There's no need to apologize." She interrupted, shaking her head gently. "I'd rather move past it."

She sat up quickly and grabbed her bag. "But-I will need us to be on the same page moving forward. Today I finally struck gold and I was able to locate someone who could help us both."

"And who might that be?"

Lyra smiled wryly at him as she walked over towards the door. "Tomorrow all will be revealed. For now, eat and rest up. You're going to need your strength."

"I've rested enough." Tom said softly as he stood up from the bed.

Lyra sighed as she crossed her arms. "Fine. I suppose I could tell you now, being that you've proven to me I can somewhat trust you."

"Somewhat?"

She let out a soft laugh as she placed her bags down once more on the table and placed a hand on her hip. "Yes, somewhat. You can hardly expect me to fully trust you, when I know nothing about you."

"I did everything you asked." He said, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, yes. But that's not how trust works Tom. This only proved that trust is a possibility, nothing more."

"I saved your life, twice if I recall. I would think that on its own should merit at least a small amount of trust." He said silkily.

"As I recall you saved my life once-" She said as she rolled her eyes. "...and I wouldn't have needed it at all if you had just listened to me and not taken nightly strolls through wendigo infested woods. You did provide me with a bit more time and self control with your generous donation to my potion, although I do remember it coming with an underlying agreement." She tapped her chin playfully.

"Everything seemed to work out well for you in the end."

"Coincidentally, it has...but I also saved your life the other night, so if I were to tally the score right now, I'd say we're pretty even."

"So then how can I prove to you that you can trust me?"

He stared at her emotionlessly, his dark eyes watching her carefully as his insides roiled. " _These cat and mouse games are infuriating. She's toying with me._ "

"I barely know you enough to decide on how I feel. You know a great deal more about me than I do about you and as I said earlier this week, that bothers me."

"I already told you-"

"-That you were raised in an orphanage, yes." She said, her eyes unreadable. "But compared to what you know about me, that seems almost trivial."

He frowned as she raised an eyebrow at him, then looked away as she dug through her purse, placing the tip of her wand inside and summoning a bottle of wine as well as two glasses. She poured them carefully and held one out to him as he stared at the glass.

"Forgive me if I don't feel like drinking." He said bitterly, the bile in his throat rising as he remembered what had happened the last time he drank.

She shrugged and placed his glass down beside her.

"Perhaps this is the perfect opportunity to let me take a glimpse into the man standing before me, so I can finally have a grasp on who I've agreed to let accompany me on my increasingly frustrating journey."

"I hardly see how anything about my life could be of interest to you." He said as he crossed his arms. "-And if you're looking for secrets, I'm afraid I don't hold a candle to anything as dark as you've been hiding."

Lyra slowly sat down in the small wooden chair as she crossed her legs and raised the glass to her lips. "I hardly doubt that, but I suppose not everyone can be as _blessed_ as I am. In time we shall see."

Tom, amused by her wit, let out a small laugh as he walked closer towards her and stared out the window, raising his arm against its frame.

"You are certainly relentless. I almost find myself willing to oblige out of sheer amusement."

"I consider persistence to be one of my greater qualities." She said softly as she sipped on her wine. "But perhaps if I start with an irrelevant question, it might not be so difficult for you."

He looked towards her and waved his hand for her to continue. " _If this is what it takes to make her feel complacent, then I should let her get on with it and we can move past this annoying curiosity of hers._ "

"You are legilimens are you not?"

Her question caught him off guard and he found himself looking at her sharply, his curiosity piqued. "What makes you believe that?"

"The first night we met. I felt you try to penetrate my mind."

Tom narrowed his eyes for a moment before he smiled and spoke softly. "Unsuccessfully. But I thought I had been rather gentle."

"Gentle?" She laughed incredulously. "It felt like a snallygaster was digging around in my skull. I had a headache for at least a day afterwards."

Her tone suddenly became serious. "Never do that again. I don't take well to attempted violations of my privacy."

"My apologies. My intent was never to cause...pain." He emphasized the last word softly as he restrained himself from smiling. Truthfully, he had not cared whether or not his actions had caused her pain and the idea of her discomfort tugged at the corners of his mouth. He looked at her once more and frowned "Sometimes I cannot help myself...But I must say I've never encountered someone as exceptionally gifted at occlumency as you. Most find the practice to be unnecessary."

Lyra smiled as she looked down at her wine. "I find most people to be ignorant dolts. I believe if you have a strong mind, you should defend it just as equally."

" _We agree on something at least._ " He thought as a moment of silence passed between them, looking out towards the smattering of stars that loomed in the sky.

She stood up from the chair and walked over to him, standing quietly at his side as she followed his gaze out the window. "I must admit though, I'm quite jealous of your talent. No matter how hard I have tried over the years...legilimency was always somewhat unattainable for me. How did you manage it?"

He mulled over the question in his head, deciding that his response would cause him no threat.

"I have to confess I've never had to try. The ability manifested itself in me from quite a young age."

"Remarkable...how young?...Fifteen?...Sixteen?-"

"Nine." He said abruptly.

"That's extraordinary Tom! Nine years old...How I envy-"

"I thought I had gone mad." He said softly. "I woke up one day to hear everyone else's voice in my head. I had no control over it...I used to sit in my room with my hands over my ears, screaming for them to stop, to leave me alone. I didn't understand any of it. Of course, no one could help me, instead I became the focus of ridicule."

"I-I'm sorry." Lyra said as she cleared her throat, uncomfortably. "That was insensitive of me to say. I could only imagine how terrifying that could be to a child."

Tom stared blankly out the window as he continued. "I eventually did learn how to control it, on my own...and when I did, no one dared to mock me ever again...I made sure of that."

Lyra let out a small laugh and sipped her wine, replying sarcastically "What did you do? Threaten to tell others what made them wet their beds at night?"

Tom turned towards her, his dark eyes raking over her face, as he felt suddenly compelled to divulge to her what he had never expressed to another soul.

"The orphanage would occasionally take us to the seaside on holiday and after waiting a length of time, I decided that this was the exact moment to enact my revenge. I convinced two of the children I despised most to follow me down the cliff into a nearby cave, it wasn't difficult, I only had to prey on their cowardice to goad them into chasing me. I waited until we were far enough inside, where no one could hear their screams, to unleash everything they deserved upon them, to make them suffer. It was so easy to break their minds, to terrify them beyond their wildest dreams and once I was finished, they never spoke a word again. Not to me, not to anyone."

Lyra remained silent as he finished, watching as his eyes bore into hers waiting for a reply. She placed her glass down on the table, digesting the pitiful tale as she smiled reassuringly. "Seems like they got what they deserved."

His eyes softened at her response and he felt a small pang of delight rise in his chest at her reaction. She let out a small sigh as she spoke once more, her fingers trailing the rim of her glass.

"Madame Celestin. That is who we are going to seek out tomorrow."

Her sudden change of heart disarmed him. "And you're sure she will be able to help us both?"

"Hopefully. I'm afraid our chances come down to luck and her mood. When we go we'll need to present her with a gift. If she likes it, then hopefully she will entertain our requests."

"A gift?" Tom said, puzzled at the statement.

"Gris-gris." Lyra said matter-of-factly, pacing about the room. "A small bag filled with offerings, herbs, stones, amulets, rare ingredients…at least three items must be inside." She waved her hand in frustration.

"Why is a gift necessary?" He said, unable to wrap his mind around the concept.

"It is the tradition here. New Orleans magic is not like other magical practices."

"Do you have anything of value that might persuade her?" He asked as he came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder gently.

Lyra tried to ignore the flutter in her chest as she bit her lip. "I'm unsure of what to choose. If the gift is not valuable enough, we will be refused. If the gift is overtly contraband in nature it might be too straightforward about our intentions and will do us no favors either."

"That is a predicament." He said as he ran his hands through his hair, thinking carefully. "I did not come all this way to be rejected…"

"I've already got two of the items somewhat figured out." She said as she placed her hand on her chin, rubbing her lip softly with her thumb. "Graveyard dirt from a native american burial ground. Not exactly rare, but rare enough to be uncommon around here."

"And the other?" Tom said as he looked towards her sharply, trying to imagine why she kept graveyard dirt in her stores.

"Locks of hair from a hide-behind." Lyra said, the displeasure evident in her voice. "Not contraband, but extremely difficult to come across. They're hard to subdue, let alone kill. I had hoped to save them for the future but I suppose I don't have a choice but to part with them."

Tom nodded as he watched her resume her pacing. A reluctant thought entered his mind as he watched her pull the emerald potion from her pocket and take a small swig, before capping it up and placing it back into her dress.

" _Perhaps if I took another stone from the locket...as much as it aggravates me to part with anything of such importance, I cannot walk away from this country empty handed. If this works it will all be worth it._ "

"I will take care of the last gift."

Lyra looked up at him sharply. "How?"

He looked away from her as he half-lied. "The potion ingredient I gave you in Salem...I-have a small amount left. I had originally intended to keep it for myself, but due to the circumstances, it might be put to better use on this."

She bit her lip again as she sighed. "You don't have to do this. We can find something else. I don't know whatever that was that you gave me, but it's proven to be extremely useful, the antidote I brewed you to counteract the poison was made with that same ingredient."

"How?" Tom looked towards her, fighting the urge to rip the locket from his neck to inspect whether she had meddled with it or not. The anger within him stirred as he tried to figure out if she had found out his secret.

She mumbled, lost in her thoughts as she ignored his reaction. "There was a small amount left in the vial you gave me, rather than stumble around with probabilities I just used what I knew would work."

The rage inside him evaporated quickly, replaced with a strange perplexion. " _She knew that ingredient is the only thing that prevents her from becoming a monster. Why would she foolishly use it on me instead of saving it for herself…_ "

He pushed his confusion to the back of his mind and spoke firmly, redirecting the conversation.

"There's no other choice. I refuse to be denied access to the knowledge I desire over something as trivial as this."

She nodded hesitantly "If you're sure…"

"It's settled."

"Well then, with all that figured out, I suppose it's time for us both to rest before we set out tomorrow"

He nodded stiffly.

"I'll see you in the morning, Tom."

Walking over towards the table, she grabbed her purse and paused as she passed him, turning around to place her hand softly on his shoulder.

"We will get what we both want. One way or another."

The familiar sensation he had denied for so long bloomed in his chest once more as she gave him a half-hearted smile and walked away, opening the door silently and closing it behind her as she took her leave.

* * *

 **Chapter 30! I had originally intended for this chapter to involve a little more , but once I started writing I couldn't stop and for continuity purposes I had to end it somewhere. I didn't bother to write what Lyra experienced in the wand shop because inevitably we all know how that goes. Anyway, this is my take on what Tom would have done to little Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop. He was an extremely talented legilimens and it manifested naturally in him just like his ability to speak with snakes. We always wondered what made him so odd, why children didn't like him and why he thought Dumbledore was coming to take him to the loony bin. If someone was a natural legilimens they would be able to pick up on others' thoughts easily (like Queenie!) and as a child who can't control it I would imagine that would be hellishly frightening and cause him to lash out angrily and strangely as well. We know how cruel Voldemort/Tom Riddle really was and we are shown even as a child he still dished out his own version of justice to those that had wronged him. That being said I had to address him trying to invade her mind in an earlier chapter, she did notice and sat on it for a while until it was appropriate to bring it up.**

 **Anyways thank you all for the new followers and favorites this week! Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon and as usual for all my new readers, please follow, favorite and review, it brings me such joy to see others enjoying this as much as I have! xx**


	31. Chapter 31

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.**

* * *

"So tell me more about this Madam Celestin." Tom said as he turned towards Lyra, pulling a small vial filled with the luminescent green powder from his pocket and placing it into the small bag of gris-gris, as she tied a string around the top and placed it neatly into her pocket.

He held the iron gate open for her as they left the inn, she took a deep breath and shook her head.

"Where do I even begin..." she trailed off. "She is a complex figure. A shadow to most people that live in this city."

"A shadow?"

"How do I explain…" She said as she bit her lip, walking next to him as she tried to gather her thoughts. "Nothing important is done in this city without her direction, without her knowledge. Her eyes and ears are all around us."

"Is she associated with your government?" Tom said as he frowned, the concept to him was confusing and it seemed as if Lyra was talking in riddles.

"Not exactly." She said, shaking her head. "She is more of a figurehead for the community, she helps those who seek her aid, she provides for those who are less fortunate than us."

"She sounds more like a philanthropist than someone who would understand the dark arts."

"Outwardly it would appear that way. But there are rumors. Dark tales of the skills she possesses and of the magic she practices underground."

"So you base our entire venture off speculation?" Tom said, his voice irritated.

Lyra gave him a sly grin and laughed. "Yes, kind of...But most people also haven't lived their lives consorting with the sort of people I have. If I recall, you received word about my services through one of my acquaintances."

"I did."

"Had you asked someone else, you would not have had the same success." She spoke softly. "But part of me thinks you already knew that."

He remained silent as he kept his eyes focused before him, averting her gaze.

"For those of us whose interests and talents are somewhat...controversial to others, we must keep our secrets within small circles. Surely you of all people understand the risk and consequences that practicing darker magic would have on someone's reputation."

Tom let out a small laugh as he raised his eyebrow. "I am all too familiar."

"Madam Celestin is rumored to be like minded and tales of her talents have often been the topic of many whispered conversations. If surreptitious knowledge is what you seek, she will have it."

"And her usefulness to yourself?" He asked curiously as he followed her down the street.

"I'm not sure. I can only hope that she might be able to provide me with something useful, some insight into what I might be able to do to rid myself of all of this."

He remained silent as they walked on for a bit, frowning as he realized they were not walking towards the direction of Rue du Merveilles. The neighborhood lacked the elegance and grandeur of everything he had seen so far and seemed somewhat ordinary, lacking any sign of magic whatsoever. He sniffed his nose in disdain at the alarming crowds of muggles that seemed to pass them in every direction.

Lyra stole a glance at him and smirked, watching as he tried to hide his contempt at his surroundings. "Not what you expected Tom?"

"Hardly. I find it difficult to believe that someone as important as you describe would choose to spend their time lingering around a place such as this...surrounded by-"

"No-majs." She finished his sentence softly and frowned. "I don't assume to understand it myself, but as I said earlier, New Orleans follows its own rules. I'm sure Madam Celestin sees her fair share of profit from also providing aid to those that are not like us."

He tried to digest the idea and felt his face sour at the thought. " _I could never lower myself in such a way._ "

"I understand your feelings on the matter." Lyra said as she rolled her eyes. "But I'm going to ask you to keep your disgust at bay while we ask for her services. I don't want anything to affect our chances of getting what we want."

He nodded stiffly as he watched her pause before a small worn down shop and stood beside her, looking into the dust covered windows. Dirty blue fabric stretched like loose skin hung across a skeletal like awning giving it an impoverished look that seemed to blend in with the rest of the street.

"Here?" He said incredulously as he looked towards her, Lyra nodded quickly and pulled at her dress, smoothing out the fabric.

"Stay sharp Tom. I have no idea what to expect once we're inside."

He followed her into the dreary and run down shop, looking at the strange trinkets and objects that lined that walls. Bushels of strange herbs were hung upside down from the ceiling and baskets full of various stones lined the small walkways of the shop. Numerous bracelets and necklaces, adorned with various beads in many colors dangled atop glass cases, filled with strange specimens and incenses, giving off a multitude of strange and unpleasant odors.

Tom tried to distract himself from the disagreeable aroma as he stared at various masks that hung above him on the walls as well, finding himself drawn to the strange expressions carved upon their faces. He heard Lyra talking to a woman far off in the corner of the empty shop, their voices low and barely audible.

"We're here to seek an audience with Madam Celestin."

"There's no such person here." The woman spoke back, staring at Lyra with suspicious eyes.

"My sources say differently." Lyra said as she reached into her purse, pulling out the small bag of gris-gris, dangling it before the woman's face.

The woman smiled and laughed, shrugging at Lyra's attempts to dissuade her. "I have no idea of whom you speak. But I will be happy to direct you to the appropriate talismans you may need for any problems you might have."

The woman nodded towards Tom, his dark figure still focused on the masks and smiled at Lyra "This bag over here contains all the luck you will need to ensure your lover's satisfaction."

Lyra turned bright red and stuttered as she shook her head angrily. "I-WE-That is NOT-"

A large grin spread across the girl's face as she waved her hand towards another display case. "Ah. Well then, perhaps some snakeskin instead, to seek revenge on someone whom you desire gone."

Lyra looked towards the woman and spoke coldly. "We are not tourists and are in no need of such trinkets. Now please if you would-"

" _That doesn't sound like it's going well._ " Tom grimaced and felt annoyed at the woman's refusal to acknowledge their request. He placed his hand inside his pocket and grasped his wand firmly as he began to walk towards Lyra to help aid her. " _If I have to use force to get what I want, then so be it._ "

He stopped suddenly in his tracks as a strange voice filled his ears, speaking in a language he had not spoken since he had walked through the woods of Salem.

"Wasted effortss…they are all the same…non possess the gift."

He craned his neck to see where the voice came from and followed its mutters down the aisle, walking past Lyra and the woman, who both paid him no mind and continued arguing with each other, as he walked towards the back of the shop. He saw the white belly and scales of a large snake slip in between a few baskets and he crouched down slowly, speaking in parseltongue as quiet as he could, so none would hear.

"Show yourself to me, I will not harm you."

He waited patiently and watched as a large snake's head emerged from between the baskets, its tongue flicking in and out of its mouth anxiously as it tilted it's head towards him.

"Ssoo, the rumorss are true. There are those who exist who sspeak my language."

Tom nodded in agreement as he watched the snakes body curl up before him, white and devoid of any color, over six feet in length with bright yellow eyes that watched him carefully.

"What was it you said before about wasted efforts?"

The serpent turned its head and blinked at him, winding its body tighter. "It iss not important."

Tom frowned as he turned his head, hearing Lyra's voice get louder as she continued to argue with the shopkeeper. He looked back towards the snake and whispered quietly.

"Do you know Madam Celestin? Is she here right now?"

The white snake eyes him carefully as he raised his head towards Tom's. His body started to loosen and unwind as he began to slowly slither away.

"It iss not for me to ssay."

Tom slowly stood up as he watched the snake slither behind a large red and gold curtain that blocked the entrance to another room and scowled as he walked back towards Lyra.

Lyra ignored him as he took his place by her side, her cheeks flushed in frustration. She grabbed her purse off the counter angrily and slid the small bag of gris-gris into her pocket. "Come Tom, we're clearly getting nowhere here."

He watched as she pushed past him angrily and started to make her way towards the front door, muttering to herself. He narrowed his eyes at the shopkeeper and let his fingers graze over his wand once more, before deciding against it. He turned and followed Lyra down the aisle to exit the store and turned around quickly as he heard a small jangle of bells from the back room, watching as the red and gold curtain was pulled aside. A prominent looking woman stood in it's door frame, as she snapped her fingers loudly.

"Alarie."

Tom watched as the girl behind the counter sharply turned towards the woman standing against the brocaded curtains and he grabbed Lyra's arm forcefully to prevent her from leaving the shop. Whirling around to chastise him, her anger suddenly diminished as she realized what was happening.

"Please lock the shop and bring our guests to me."

"Yes Ma'am."

Lyra looked towards Tom wordlessly as the girl scurried towards them and locked the door, ushering them towards the backroom. She held aside the thick curtain that blocked their entry and beckoned them to pass through, speaking calmly. "You must not keep her waiting."

Tom placed his hand on Lyra's back as he motioned for her to enter first, following cautiously behind her. The room they had entered was dark, despite the pillars of candles that seemed to adorn it, a strange smell permeated the air from stacks of incense that burned around the room, stinging their noses as they stared at the woman before them. The candlelight danced against her dark skin and colorful robes, giving her an air of mystery.

Lyra observed her carefully as she sat upon an elegant chair, her hair hidden and wrapped up with large scarf, her eyes dark and shrewd as she looked them over.

" _She looks older than the photograph, that much I expected...but her face does not reflect her age like it should. Strange…_ " Lyra mused as she sat in silence.

To the woman's right, the white snake sat atop an ornate cushion, coiling around itself tightly once more as its eyes steadily focused on Tom, its gaze unwavering.

"I believe you have a gift for me." The woman said, raising an eyebrow.

Lyra nodded her head as she pulled out the small bag of offerings, handing it out towards her.

"Alarie. Bring it to me." She motioned towards the shopkeeper once more, waiting as the girl scooped it quickly from Lyra's outstretched hand and offered it to her gently.

"That will be all. Leave us."

Alarie quietly nodded and left through the curtain, leaving them both alone with the strange woman.

They watched in anticipation as she slowly unwrapped the bag and looked over the gifts, waiting for her to speak, the empty sound of the crackling candles filling the room.

A small smile tugged at her cheeks and graced her face for only a moment before she eyed them curiously. "Your gifts have pleased Madam Celestin."

Tom turned towards Lyra as she spoke softly. "Each of us has our own request."

Madam Celestin smiled and stood up. "I have a feeling I know what it is both of you seek. But first I will start with you Ms. Leroux."

Lyra looked towards the ground quickly, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "How is it you know my name?"

She walked over towards Lyra and placed a hand under her chin, turning her head carefully as she looked into her eyes. "How is it I would not know your name. Tales of your talents have not escaped my ears, people have spoken about you for years, though less now than before." She frowned as she looked into Lyra's strange mismatched eyes. "Of what ails you child I am not entirely sure. But it may be beyond my realm of power."

He watched as Lyra's face fell slightly and turned to speak, wanting to address his own request. Madam Celestin looked towards him quickly and grinned. "You however, I do not know. Your name?"

"Tom." He said reluctantly, the feeling of his own name rolling off his tongue reminded him once more how infuriatingly ordinary it was and he despised it.

The woman raised her eyebrow at his reluctance and laughed. "Just Tom?"

He remained silent at her show of amusement and she smiled softly. "Well then _just_ Tom and Ms. Leroux, St. Johns Eve is almost upon us and I have much work to do. I'm afraid you will have to wait until after it is over before I entertain either of your requests."

"I understand." Lyra said quietly.

Madam Celestin kept her attention on him as she spoke once more, her eyes sparkling. "I will be hosting a ball tomorrow night in celebration, it would please me if you both attended."

Tom held Madam Celestin's gaze, her eyes locked steadfastly on his as if she searched for something in them and he heard Lyra speak quietly. "We gladly accept your invitation."

The woman broke her gaze from him and bowed her head, walking smoothly back towards her chair. "So then it is settled, I will send an owl with your invitations tonight."

She clapped her hands quickly and they watched as the girl from the front of the shop appeared once more.

"Alarie, please show our guests out."

Tom looked towards the large snake and watched as it slithered up the chair into Madam Celestin's lap and turned back around quickly as he followed Lyra out past the curtain and out of the shop.

* * *

Tom walked next to her in silence as he tried to digest what had just happened, thinking anxiously of the endless possibilities that awaited him. The meeting had been strange and unsatisfying, the woman herself not at all what he had expected. But yet there was something about her that exuded power, something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on and it fascinated him.

"She liked you."

"What?" Tom said as he frowned as he turned towards her, his thoughts interrupted.

"Madam Celestin. She liked you. I don't know what you did or how you managed it, but the only reason we got this far is because of you."

"I highly doubt that." He said as he ran a hand through his hair, pulling it back from his face.

"I don't understand why the concept should be so foreign to you. Not just anyone gets invited to one of her infamous _balls_."

"Judging by the way you emphasized the last word, I take it you're not a fan of parties?" He smirked as she rolled her eyes at him.

"To say that I disliked them would be an understatement." Lyra said softly. "I've always made any excuse to get out of them. Seems like nothing but a waste of time... but in this case I had no other choice."

She frowned as she thought back to what Madam Celestin had said to her. " _If she can't help me then I'm not sure there is any one of this point who can. Let's just hope that there's something, anything that I can learn from her._ "

Tom looked towards Lyra and smiled, understanding the all too familiar feeling of aversion towards anything he deemed frivolous and felt something strange stir within him at her silence.

"She didn't say she couldn't help you."

"No. She didn't."

"You don't think she can?"

"I don't think that I should rest my laurels on false hope."

He looked away from her and decided to change the subject, unable to argue with her last statement.

"She knew you."

"Apparently so."

"You seemed surprised. How is it then that she knows you?"

"I didn't always live my life in the shadows." She tried to smile, but felt her face sour at her own response.

" _Seems like ages ago now at this point. I would give anything to go back to the ways things were..._ " She thought as they continued to walk in silence, stealing a quick glance at Tom as she watched his brows furrowed in concentration, the black hair falling into his face that accentuated his high cheekbones and dark eyes and felt a strange blush creep up onto her cheeks. " _...well maybe not everything._ "

* * *

 **I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, it took me a little bit to write. I had to sift through some old thoughts and ramblings and try to figure out where this chapter needed to go. The next chapter will be a DOOZY, so remember to keep checking back! We're definitely going to find out a lot about Lyra and her past. Back to the chapter though, If you've never been to New Orleans, all the shops there are pretty wild and crazy, so I tried to stay true to what they would look like! Anyway, thank you to all my new followers, I hope you all are enjoying it so far, this is turning out to be a very long story and I think this particular story will only focus on Tom's time in America. There's just no way I could even think to fit other countries in on this one, so after this story is all neatly wrapped up, perhaps onto a few different countries and continents? Please review and let me know what you think! Also, don't forget to favorite and follow if you haven't already so far! I appreciate you all! Til next time! xxx**


	32. Chapter 32

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **After the murder of Hepzibah Smith, Tom Riddle disappeared for ten long years. He sank deeper into the Dark Arts & pursued knowledge that others could only dream of, consorting with the darkest members of wizarding society. With his eyes set on North America, he has no idea that the magic he so desperately seeks will shape his life & his inevitable future for years to come. TomxOC**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's and my own storyline.**

* * *

 _ **Madam Celestin**_

 _ **joyfully invites you to attend**_

 _ **the annual ball in celebration of**_

 _ **St. John's Eve**_

 _ **on the twenty third of June**_

 _ **at eight o' clock in the evening**_

 _ **Manoir de la Fleur , New Orleans Louisiana.**_

Lyra read the scrawling script on the invitation in her hand and stared at the long black dress hung delicately before her. She had pulled it from a large wooden drawer in her wardrobe and frowned at its appearance, bunched and wrinkled. Pulling her wand out from her pocket and waving it over the garment, she watched as the imperfections disappeared from the smooth sparkling fabric and smiled. Running her hand along it gently, she reached back into the drawer, pulling out a long train of transparent black chiffon and hung it neatly over the dress.

" _I can't remember the last time I even wore something as nice as this._ " She mused as she crossed her arms around her, tapping her fingers absentmindedly. " _What occasion could I have ever purchased this for?_ "

Yesterday, when they had gotten back from their meeting with Madam Celestin, she had spent the rest of the night pouring over books, determined to find her own solution should her ventures in New Orleans prove fruitless. In her fervour she had completely forgotten about the proper dress attire she would need for such an event and that morning had dug around ferociously in her wardrobe in hopes there would be something appropriate for her to wear.

" _Aha! I remember now...the charity ball in Savannah . I purchased this and never got to wear it because I was called away for work...The irony. The only formal event I had ever agreed to attend and I ended up not going anyway…_ "

She let out a small laugh and shook her head. " _Oh well, at least it will finally have a purpose._ "

As she went to push the drawer back in, a neatly pressed pair of pants caught her eye and she opened the heavy dresser a bit further to uncover what else laid inside.

" _I wonder._ " She thought as she bit her lip, running a hand over her discovery.

* * *

Tom paced around the room anxiously, the night had been long and he had found himself unable to sleep, filled with anticipation of the events that would ensue later on in the day.

He stared at the stack of open books he had read all night about New Orleans magic and the dark tales of spells and rituals that had once stemmed from it's nefarious underbelly. One passage in particular stood out to him and he found himself fascinated at its description.

" _Falling under the branch of Necromancy, there is little known about the subject of the Inferi. It has been assumed in the ancient and dark ritual of creating Inferi, that after a series of complex spells have been performed, that a witch or wizard may control a corpse's body even after it has been parted with its soul. Once made into an Inferi, the body could be reanimated at the whim of its creator and may be used to carry out any deed at its master's behest..._ "

" _If I'm only to walk away from this country with this particular knowledge I will count my travel here as a complete success. In the future it could prove most useful, with an army of Inferi behind me there would be little anyone could do to prevent my ascention to power._ "

He rubbed his chin in thought and smirked at his good fortune. " _I only hope that this Madam Celestin is as competent in the dark arts as Lyra claims she is._ "

Tom frowned as he thought back to the snake and the strange exchange that had passed between them. " _Something still sits strange with me...only after our little exchange in parselmouth did she see fit to entertain Lyra and myself. Before it slithered away into that back room, our efforts seemed wasted. It seems less of a coincidence and more-_ "

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on his door. He let out a sigh of frustration as he slowly opened it, peering outside to find Lyra standing in the doorway, a small bundle in her arms.

"May I come in?"

Tom stared at her for a moment, clenching his jaw in annoyance and opened the door, gesturing for her to enter.

"Did I interrupt something?"

He stared at her irately for a moment before speaking. "I was doing nothing of consequence."

"I trust you're prepared for tonight."

"I am."

She tilted her head at him curiously and looked around the room. "I'm sorry if this comes off a little forward, but I was curious as to what you planned on wearing tonight."

He frowned and gestured towards the clothes he was wearing, irritated by her question. "I'm sure you have more pressing matters than to worry about my choice in clothing."

Lyra raised her eyebrow as she held out the small bundle towards him. "Normally I would not care, but since tonight is important to both our desires, I felt that it would help if we both looked our best. I found this in my wardrobe amongst my things...You're welcome to it if you'd like."

Tom unwrapped the small bundle, looking at the suit he held in his arms and gave her a strange look.

"What?" She asked

"Do you normally keep men's clothing in your possession?"

"I kept it for polyjuice purposes. It's better to be prepared for all situations-" She sniffed as she turned away from him. "But if you'd prefer to be ill dressed for such a grand occasion-"

He smiled as he watched a red blush creep onto her cheeks and spoke softly. "Thank you. I didn't mean to offend."

Aware of the growing color on her cheeks, she looked towards him quickly and nodded, walking towards the door. "The ball starts in a few hours, meet me in my room at a quarter to eight and we'll depart together…"

He watched as she left the room and grinned to himself, placing the suit gently on the bed.

* * *

Lyra stared at the opulent black dress as she sipped on a glass of wine, dread creeping over her as the time for their departure grew closer.

" _I hope it goes well tonight. I know something as trivial as a ball shouldn't give me so much to worry about, but my gut instinct is telling me to be on my guard._ "

She let out a sigh of frustration as she placed the glass down and opened her purse, summoning a large mirror and waving it towards the wall where it hung itself neatly. Narrowing her eyes at her reflection in the mirror, she looked towards her purse and summoned a few beauty products from the pouch.

" _I suppose considering the event, I should try to look a little more refined than usual._ "

Lyra looked towards her hair and frowned, waving her wand elegantly above her head as her curls softened into perfect waves, her part slightly deeper than normal. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small hair pin, adorned with small sparkling stones that were fashioned into the shape of a small flower and slid it into her hair. Nodding in satisfaction, she looked towards a small bag of cosmetics and started to apply the makeup, swiping a dark red lipstick across her lips.

" _I suppose this will have to do._ " She thought as she finished applying a small amount of rouge to her cheeks, stepping back to admire her reflection. " _I've forgotten what it feels like to actually have time to spend on my appearance._ _I'm lucky if I have a minute every so often to just reapply my lipstick._ "

She looked towards the dress for a moment before slipping the black chiffon trains off from the hanger and laying them gently down on the bed. Disrobing slowly, she waved her wand towards the dress and watched as it floated towards her and hovered above her head, sliding over her outstretched arms and eventually over her slender body. She held her wand over her shoulder and pulled it upwards quickly as the zipper of her dress closed, her fitting complete. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she smiled at how the dress fit and sparkled, the halter top that crossed around her chest and looped around her neck dropped into a deep neckline that accentuated her delicate pale shoulders and her full bust. She fastened the clasp behind her neck and grabbed the chiffon trains waving her wand as they fastened themselves to the back of her dress.

A knock on the door disrupted her as she broke herself away from the mirror, quickly slipping on a matching pair of shoes.

"Come in." Lyra said softly, feeling her heart beating nervously in her chest.

* * *

Tom fastened the top button on his suit as he pushed the door open gently, anxious of the evening's event and paused in the doorway as Lyra turned around to greet him. He had acknowledged that she was a natural beauty from the moment they had met and he had anticipated that she would look nothing short of attractive tonight, but he had not expected what stood before him.

Her dark midnight like hair flowed over her pale shoulders, her skin seemed to glow incandescently against the dark dress that adorned her body which sparkled and reminded him of the night sky. Long trains of black chiffon trailed elegantly behind her and he watched as her dark red lips parted in unease.

"You look…" He felt the words tumble out from his mouth involuntarily and trailed off as he noticed her tremble.

"Is it too much do you think?" Lyra asked nervously as her fingers began to fidget. "I-I've never worn anything so-"

"Beautiful." Tom said softly as he closed the door behind him and pulled on his suit jacket.

"Thank you." She said gently, feeling a flush rise in her cheeks. "You look quite handsome yourself, I'm glad the suit fit you."

He casually shrugged as she walked towards him. "I clean up well occasionally."

Lyra tried to contain the warmth in her cheeks and the fluttering in her chest as she walked over towards the table and picked up the elegant invitation.

"Shall we?"

Tom nodded and opened the door, letting her pass as he closed it behind them and felt a warm sensation rise up in his chest as she looked back towards him. She held her hand out gently as he grabbed it and with a large sudden ' _CRACK' ,_ they disappeared.

* * *

They reappeared quickly outside a large mansion which sat atop a lush landscape that seemed to go on forever in the distance. Large lamps illuminated the path led up to the house which bustled with activity. They watched as other witches and wizards apparated around them, walking towards the house as large winged horses flew down from the sky, pulling large ornate carriages behind them as they landed on the long graveled pathway. Tom marvelled at the sight in front of him and Lyra raised an eyebrow as she looked towards his eager face and whispered "I told you it was an honor to be invited, the balls held in New Orleans are far beyond anything you could ever imagine."

"So I see."

Lyra frowned as a dark feeling rose up in her stomach and smoothed out her dress nervously as they started to walk up the drive. She tried to ignore the crowds of people that congregated in small groups on the lawn, laughing and talking to each other loudly as she passed. She paused as they reached a large fountain that sat in the middle of the walkway and took a deep breath, her insides shaking.

" _It'll be fine Lyra, there's nothing to worry about. It's just one night, what could go wrong?_ "

Steeling herself, she followed Tom around the fountain and up the large stone steps, entering a large brightly lit foyer. It was heavily decorated, white and blue ribbons hung delicately from the walls, loose flowers adorned either side of the floorway lavishly, directing them towards a large ballroom at the end. Two sprawling staircases above the ballroom were lined with candles, giving the hall a decadent and elegant glow.

As they entered the ballroom, a small group of wizards stopped talking amongst themselves and turned their attention towards Lyra, eyeing her in a fashion that Tom recognized all too well. As he steered her away, they passed a well dressed witch who smiled at him bashfully and turned away, her face red and flushed. The ballroom was decorated just as richly as the foyer, large flower garlands hung from the ceilings, while a band played softly in the background off towards the other end of the ballroom. To their right, the walls were made of a frosted glass with large columns that framed a giant arched doorway leading into a lush and private garden that seemed to go on endlessly.

The room was alive and buzzing, house elves and servers walked around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and drinks, while large banquet tables of food lined the other side of the ballroom, the smells enticing and delicious. Couples danced to the music in the center of the room as the band played soft and romantic melodies.

"Refreshment?"

Lyra looked towards a server dressed in a blue suit and nodded as he handed them two glasses of wine. As he withdrew his hand, the sleeve of his coat pulled back to reveal a small dark mark upon his forearm, which when he noticed, he quickly concealed. Tom narrowed his eyes curiously as he turned towards Lyra who seemed to take no notice, sipping her wine slowly, observing the room. She relaxed slightly as he caught her eye and shook her head towards him.

"I'm sorry if I seem somewhat uneasy, I don't think I've ever been around this many people at once. You seem relaxed for someone who claims to dislike parties-Have you been to many balls like this before?"

"A few. None as decadent as this though…"

A young wizard and witch passed them and Tom smirked as the wizard ogled Lyra, his date pulling him in the other direction angrily as she noticed.

"I'll be happy if this is my first and last." Lyra said irately as they walked over towards a gap in the crowd, finding sanctuary near a group of small tables against the ballroom floor.

Tom smiled in amusement as he stood next to her watching the room buzz with excitement when suddenly their isolation shattered, a familiar voice calling out to them from behind.

"I do believe every woman is looking at you in this room, green with envy." A deep voice said as Lyra felt her stomach drop.

" _Merlin's beard, not again._ " She thought furiously as she grasped her glass.

Tom watched her face fall as Cassian appeared next to them, dressed handsomely with a glass of wine in one hand and a haughty looking witch standing beside him.

"I highly doubt that." She said coldly, trying to look anywhere but at the man next to her.

"I thought it would be another two years before I saw you again." He smiled as he stood next to her, rolling his eyes as the young witch next to him nudged him angrily. " You of course remember Arabella from The Department of Confiscated Items?"

"What are you doing here?" She asked flatly, sipping from her glass as she nodded at the witch, turning her attention towards Cassian.

"Well I was here on MACUSA business as you know and as a thank you for my services to the city, Madam Celestin extended her gratitude...and yourself? If I recall correctly, you were never an admirer of large gatherings."

"I invited them personally."

Madam Celestin appeared before them, elegantly dressed in a flowing white gown, her hair braided elegantly atop her head as she nodded towards them.

"I trust you are all enjoying the ball?" she said, raising an eyebrow towards them.

"Tremendously." Tom said as he smiled at her.

"I'm sorry, Lyra I don't think you've introduced me to your friend." Cassian said as he turned towards Tom, smiling arrogantly as he sipped his wine. "I would hate for him to think that all of us Americans are rude and unfriendly."

Tom stared at him coldly as Lyra spoke, her voice trembling with anger. "I highly doubt that, but as you keep showing up unexpectedly, I suppose introductions should be made. This is my friend, Tom R-"

"Marvolo." He interrupted her silkily. "Thomas Marvolo."

Lyra gave him a strange look, but let it go as she sipped her wine uncomfortably.

"Cassian Barrett." The young man said as he grinned arrogantly and held his hand out. Tom ignored it as Madam Celestin laughed and turned towards him.

"Ahh so _just_ Tom has a last name." He smiled as her eyes lingered on him, sparkling in amusement.

Cassian's scornfully pulled back his hand and addressed Tom once more, his voice dripping with venom. "So Tom, how do you know Lyra?" He swirled the wine in his glass around as he continued to stare.

"I'm here on personal matters and she's been kind enough to show me around." He said, forcing himself to politely smile.

Cassian's handsome features soured for a moment before he laughed and nudged Lyra. "I see. Perhaps once you're done with being a tour guide you might consider returning to MASUCA then?"

Tom turned his head towards her sharply and narrowed his eyes. "Return to MACUSA?"

Laughing incredulously, Cassian placed a hand on her shoulder and moved himself in between them, his blue eyes twinkling in delight. "She never told you? Lyra's one of the brightest and most talented witches in the country. The youngest witch to ever become head of a department in history."

The young witch as his side rolled her eyes enviously as she nudged him again and whispered. "Cassian I'm rather parched could you-"

He waved her away irately, as he scowled. "There are drinks being served wherever you look, go fetch one yourself if you're in such a hurry."

Arabella sucked her teeth and gave him a filthy look as she walked away, while Lyra felt the weight of Tom's unwavering gaze and shifted her feet uncomfortably.

"What department did you work for?" Tom asked quietly, his gaze unwavering.

Lyra gave Cassian a venomous look as she replied. "The Department of Curse Breakers..."

"Truly some of the best years the Department ever had." Madam Celestin said softly as she smiled at her. "Your prowess at MACUSA was often the topic of many conversations, pity you've left it behind."

"The only thing I've left behind is my certainty." Lyra said as she smiled slightly, sipping from her glass. "Sometimes the best way to force yourself forward in life is to burn the bridges behind you."

"Well spoken." Madam Celestin said as she raised her glass towards her.

"Your talents are sorely missed, I'm sure everyone would welcome you back with open arms if you decided to return." Cassian said as he sipped his wine, his gaze trailing over her body inappropriately.

"I'm afraid I've moved past such things." Lyra said flatly, trying to ignore his lustful eyes.

"Well of course you wouldn't be going back to your original position, since I now hold that title but the Magical Congress would be delighted to atleast have you back at work-"

Lyra shot him a filthy look as Madam Celestin cleared her throat, interrupting him and turned around as music grew louder in the background . "Forgive me, but I need to attend to my other guests. Enjoy yourselves and continue on." She smiled and bowed her head gracefully, before walking across the room to engage with others, her long white dress trailing behind her.

Cassian finished his glass of wine and set it down on a table, offering his hand out towards Lyra. "I know you're not one for sentiment, but one dance for old times sake?"

She looked at his outstretched hand repugnantly as she tried to refuse. "I-"

Tom watched the discomfort and anger spread across her face and acted quickly, stepping between them. He placed his hand on her back gently as he smugly grinned at Cassian. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid Ms. Leroux's first dance is already spoken for."

She felt her anger subside as an overwhelming sense of relief flooded through her and she blushed as Tom's hand gently found hers.

"Perhaps later then.." Cassian stiffly nodded at them, his jaw clenched angrily as he walked away. Tom silently led Lyra out to the dance floor until they had found a vacant spot on the floor among the sea of dancing couples and he smiled at her reassuringly.

Lyra felt the heat in her cheeks rise as she felt his right hand gently rest on her waist, the other wrapped softly around her own and she raised her eyes to meet his, her free hand finding its way to his shoulder.

"Thank you...for that."

His eyes stared into hers intensely as a small grin tugged at his mouth. "You're welcome...although I'd be lying if I said my intentions were entirely chivalrous." He nodded in the direction of Cassian's looming figure, watching them angrily as he dismissed Arabella from his side once more, the young witch throwing her drink at him as she walked away. "I think I've gotten under his skin."

"I think you have." She laughed as she looked down, her smile fading.

He bowed his head closer towards hers and spoke softly. "So...how long did you work for MACUSA?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

They danced in silence for a moment before she gave him a curious look. "Tom Marvolo?"

"I'd prefer the people acquainted with myself remain at a minimum."

Lyra nodded and leaned her head closer towards him, her heart skipping a beat as he followed suit, their faces almost touching. "Madam Celestin was very interested in you tonight. After this dance ends, you should use this ball as an opportunity to get closer to her."

"And what will you do?"

She shrugged. "Take a stroll in the garden perhaps, it doesn't matter. If I could do anything to further our success I would, but it seems like she's far more interested in you than me."

He nodded as they continued to dance, his heart beating uncharacteristically fast as her hand moved from his shoulder to his chest. He glanced around at the couples around them, watching in amusement as the surrounding men stole glances at Lyra.

"I think that if you wanted to find another dance partner, you'd find that most of the wizards in the room would happily oblige you."

She laughed as the music came slowly to a close and squeezed his hand gently. "I highly doubt anyone could prove a better dance partner than my first...No, I think the gardens will do just fine."

He let go of her slowly as she motioned for him to turn around and pointed towards the regal woman in white walking alone as she departed from yet another group of attendees. "Madam Celestin is alone, go now before someone else engages her."

She smiled reassuringly at him and watched him depart, eventually turning around towards a server carrying a tray of drinks. Tom looked hesitantly over his shoulder as he stole one last glance at her and witnessed another wizard approach Lyra, handing her a glass off the tray, watching as she politely smiled and shook his hand. Feeling a stab of jealousy rise up in his chest, he turned away and tried to ignore it, placing a false smile on his face as he approached Madam Celestin slowly.

* * *

 **Hope you guys enjoyed this one, the next is coming soon! I don't have too much commentary on this chapter, but I did promise that it would have a bit more about Lyra's past. So there ya have it, she worked at MACUSA. More about that in chapters to come. Why a curse breaker? I feel like everyone's attentions are always fixated on an auror's job being the "most dangerous, exciting and important" part of working for a magical ministry, but if you read up on what curse breakers do, that job seems WAY more difficult and exciting...and who would be more talented at that job than someone who is VERY knowledgeable in the Dark Arts. Things are also getting a wee bit more romantic huh? A few more fun "behind the scene" inspirations to this chapter for you guys:**

 **-The estate was actually based on a real museum & historical home in New Orleans, Longue Vue House & Gardens. Absolutely Stunning.**

 **-Lyra's dress description was inspired by Jane Russell's ballroom dress from "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" One of my favorite on screen dresses EVER, her hair was inspired partially by Rita Hayworth in the movie "Gilda". Much like how Fantastic Beasts reflects the roaring twenties and the fashions and hairstyles of the day, I also tried to have Lyra's description match that of what a woman would look like in the 1950's. Completely useless information, but fun nonetheless.**

 **To my reviewers:**

 **Guest - thank you so much for your kind review! I'm so happy you enjoy it, I'm trying my hardest to make it not only enjoyable for everyone but also canon-compliant which I tend to gravitate towards myself when reading others fanfiction.**

 **Kiracalico - I always look forward to your reviews! Yes! We finally meet Madam Celestin who will play an even larger part in the upcoming chapters. New Orleans is so extraordinary, it's unimaginable! I really hope I'm doing it justice. As for Tom and Lyra, things are going to start to get interesting! I'm glad you're enjoying :)**

 **Anyways, thank you to all the new followers! And for anyone new don't forget to review, fav & follow! Thank you all for giving me the motivation to keep this going! Xxx**


	33. Chapter 33

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **After the murder of Hepzibah Smith, Tom Riddle disappeared for ten long years. He sank deeper into the Dark Arts & pursued knowledge that others could only dream of, consorting with the darkest members of wizarding society. With his eyes set on North America, he has no idea that the magic he so desperately seeks will shape his life & his inevitable future for years to come. TomxOC**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's and my own storyline.**

* * *

"Madam Celestin." Tom smiled as he walked through the passing crowd towards the stately witch.

"Tom." She said, her face beaming against the incandescent glow of her skin. "I hope you've not grown bored of my party already?"

"Quite the opposite."

"I'm glad to hear it. Where's Ms. Leroux? Have you left her unattended?" Her eyes danced as they trailed across his face.

"No. She took leave to take a walk through the gardens I believe, she was quite impressed by their beauty."

Madam Celstin smiled as she motioned for him to follow her. "Have you come to ask after your request once more?"

Tom shook his head as he smiled at her and placed his hands behind his back as they walked. "Certainly not, I saw you unengaged and I thought you might be in need of company."

She considered him momentarily and held her hand out. "It is most welcome, however, I'm afraid I've spent most of my time greeting my guests and I find it absolutely tiring that no one has yet asked me to dance."

He let out a small laugh as he clasped her hand and brought it to his lips. "How insensitive of them, shall we?"

"I would be absolutely delighted."

Tom walked her out on the ballroom floor as a slow song started to play softly in the background, the couple's around them dancing in unison. Although she was beautiful, he found that his heart did not race as she touched her hip, nor did his cheeks turn red with heat as she placed her hand into his.

She looked into his eyes deeply as her voice turned soft. "How are you enjoying my city, Tom?"

His eyes followed hers as he responded in the same gentle manner. "I find New Orleans to be...quite different."

"No doubt, your little excursion down Rue du Rouge was rather exciting."

His head jerked back stiffly in surprise. "How-"

"I know all, Tom. The streets, they whisper."

Tom thought back to what Lyra had said about the witch and frowned as she continued. "It would be best to avoid that street from now on. The family Germain is still quite upset with you."

Nodding in agreement, he looked over her shoulder slowly and caught a glimpse of Lyra, standing alone against the entrance to the garden, seemingly lost in thought. He brought his attention back to Madam Celestin as she continued.

"I know what it is you seek in my city, Mr. Marvolo." His heart jumped slightly at the sound of his false name, pleased with his deception.

"And what would that be?" He asked curiously as they swayed to the music. Her head bowed towards his as she whispered in his ear. "Power."

He chuckled at her and placed his lips against her ear, murmuring quietly. "Yet, I have seen none of it, not a whisper of the magic that I know exists here." Without realizing, he found himself staring past her once more, his eyes settling on Lyra as he watched Cassian approach her again, her beautiful face once more upset and angry.

Madam Celestin smiled as she turned around to follow his gaze, her eyes falling upon Lyra before she turned around and whispered once more into his ear. "Your friend is very beautiful is she not?"

The question caught him off guard as he frowned and hesitantly responded. "I suppose."

"There is much darkness in her I fear, so much that I'm not sure I will be able to help her." She whispered as he felt her hand slide up the back of his neck. "But I can help you."

Tom watched as Lyra exchanged words with Cassian and suddenly walked out the garden doors, his masculine figure following after her. He took a deep breath to shake off the feeling that distracted him and turned his head towards her. "How?"

She chuckled as she stroked the back of his neck softly. "What if I told you there was a way la belle amie could be yours forever?"

He let out a small laugh as she finished. "And why would I ever desire that?"

"Come now Tom, don't be so stubborn as to deny yourself the earthly pleasures in life, there is no shame in giving in to what comes naturally to us all. I see the way you look at her. I myself have fallen victim to my body's desires and here I am, still standing before you." She held her head up and stared into his eyes, the smile disappearing from her lips. "But there is also power in numbers as well my dear Tom. Do you think I am the most powerful witch in the city because I rely only upon myself?"

Her words shocked him as he internally struggled with a dawning realization. " _Those strange feelings I get around her...could it be something as simple as lust? Could it be possible that what had once started as an irritating fascination has now turned into something else?_ "

Madam Celestin let out a laugh as she murmured. "You are conflicted. This is normal, but there are ways to control others without deception and trickery." She pulled her hand away from his neck and tugged at the long sleeve of her dress, showing him a small dark mark on the flesh of her arm. He recognized it instantly, thinking back to the server who bore the small tattoo as well.

His eyes furrowed in thought as he looked towards her. "I don't understand."

"Do we not mark our animals destined for slaughter to keep track of who they belong to?" She said gleefully as she raised an eyebrow. "They are no different than people. I provide plenty of aid for those who reside in my city, for a small price. If my help is wanted, the cost is undying loyalty and an obligation to come to my side whenever I call. I have no need of riches, for you see I have more material possessions than I can count. What makes me powerful is the numbers I have at my back."

He considered her offer for a moment, the thought of such a skill invaluable and frowned as he looked towards her. "While what you say is thought-provoking, I highly doubt I would be able to force-"

"She must do it of her own volition." Madam Celestin said as she smiled slyly. "But I could help you to persuade her."

Tom looked away at the thought, torn between his strange longing and the disdain of being tied so intimately to another. "It is something I will take into consideration."

She narrowed her eyes at him and whispered once more. "There is more I can offer you, meet me tomorrow night to fulfill the desires you came here for. I will send an owl to your room with instructions."

He nodded as the song quietly ended, Madam Celestin pulling away from him as he whispered softly. "Why are you offering all of this to me?"

As she turned to walk away from him, a large smile spread across her face. "You possess something that is extremely valuable to me. But I'm afraid our interactions tonight are at an end, the night is still far from over and I have guests to entertain."

She nodded curtly towards him and walked away slowly, joining a group of wizards across the great Hall.

* * *

Lyra let out a frustrated sigh as she leaned against a pillar of a large marbled gazebo that sat in the middle of the sprawling courtyard.

"Why do you keep avoiding me?"

" _Merlin's beard, will he ever go away?!_ " She thought to herself as she turned around angrily.

"Because I do not wish to speak to you Cassian."

He lowered his voice softly as he stood next to her, leaning against the stone. "It's been two years, I had hoped you would put the past behind you and at least talk to me again."

"I have nothing to say."

He looked down towards the ground sheepishly and murmured. "You never responded to any of my letters."

Lyra narrowed her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, her hand on her hip. "It's because I never read them."

He looked up towards her and frowned, the arrogant smile gone from his face, now replaced with a confused look. "Do you hate me that much?"

Lyra turned away from him and started walking towards a large pathway, it's tall green walls encased in flowers. Cassian followed suit and walked besides her, his demeanor changed. "Come back to work. No one blamed you for Hughes' death. It was an accident."

She tried to lower her voice as her temper flared again. "You're right. It _was_ an accident, but I should have known better. But in the beginning I was looked at like a suspect…and you of all people didn't defend me. Do you know how that felt? You let them-"

"What was I supposed to do Lyra? All of our jobs were on the line and you wouldn't even _speak_ to me. Instead I was met with the same poisonous temperament that you always give everyone else."

She remained silent as he continued. "And then, months after it happened without even a word to me, you disappeared."

"I did what was best." She felt the words stick to her tongue like molasses.

"Best for who?" Cassian said bitterly as he looked up towards the sky. "You never let anyone in, you always keep everything to yourself...you always have."

"Cassian, why do you care so much about what I do? Why do you still try to cling to my shadow? Is there nothing in the world that interests you? Is there still nothing better to do with your time than belittle and torture me? For years you have tried to attain everything I have valued-"

He let out an incredulous laugh as he ran a hand through his dark blonde hair. His deep blue eyes full of disbelief as he looked towards her. "Torture you? Merlin's beard Lyra, we were children, let it go...and yes, there is something that interests me. For years I have tried to do everything that you found interesting because I thought that at some point you might realize that I was trying to get your attention...that you might realize that the only thing I ever wanted in life _was you_."

She stopped slowly and looked towards him, a wave of nausea beating at her stomach. "Did you ever think that I knew and I was trying to let you down the only way I knew how? I don't feel the same way...I never have."

"What does he have that I don't?" Cassian said defiantly, his voice wavering.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play coy with me. You've _never_ spent this much time with another person and I saw the way you looked at him tonight!"

" _Is he talking about Tom?_ " Her face turned red at his accusations and stuttered angrily. "I-It's Not-You have no idea what you're talking about."

Cassian stared at her, his eyes full of hurt and longing. "Then come back...please?" He grabbed her hand gently and she recoiled from his touch, shaking her hand free.

Lyra shook her head and walked around the path, back towards the entrance to the hall. "I can't."

"You can't or you won't?" He asked, his voice rising in anger.

"Both."

Lyra hurried her pace, making her way briskly towards the hall, clutching her stomach to quell the acid that rose up within it and noticed a dark figure step out from the ballroom into the moonlit sky.

" _Tom._ " Relief flooded through her, walking eagerly towards him, desperate to end the current conversation, when Cassian grabbed her arm and held it firmly in his hand.

"Let go of me Cassian." She hissed under her breath, searching his eyes as he squeezed tighter.

Tom watched Lyra walk towards him quickly, her dress billowing behind her in the wind, giving her an ethereal-like aura and scowled when he saw Cassian grab her arm. He grasped his wand firmly, angrily making his way down the steps and into the grass, the ire rising in his chest as their heated exchange reached his ears.

"You've changed Lyra and not for the better. You don't think I see what you've become, the scars you're hiding under all the makeup? I barely recognize you. There's only one explanation for marks like that-"

" _How can he see my scars?_ " A terrifying realization hit her as she tried to pry her arm from his grasp. " _The potion! I forgot to take it today!_ "

Lyra whipped her wand out quickly and held it at his throat, her eyes wild with fury. "Let go of me Cassian or I swear I will curse you apart limb by limb."

She felt Tom rush up behind her and touch her back gently, his wand aimed towards her assailant.

"It's alright Tom, I can handle this on my own." She spat as she looked towards him.

Cassian let her go quickly, staring at the two wands pointed in his direction and pulled at his suit coat in irritation. Tom lowered his wand as Lyra stood there, her hand shaking and watched in horror as her eyes suddenly turned black.

"Calm down, Lyra. It's over." He whispered in her ear as she quickly blinked, her eyes returning to their normal mismatched colors. "Perhaps we should leave?"

"Don't tell me what to do." She said venomously as she turned on him, her eyes filled with an emotion he couldn't place.

Cassian looked towards both of them angrily as he pushed past her, walking towards the hall. He glanced over his shoulder and addressed her once more. "If you're going to run around and waste your life, then so be it...you've made your choice. Close your heart to me if you'd like, but if you still have any ounce of humanity left in you, you should go pay Dad a visit. He misses you more than anyone."

His words caught her off guard as he stormed away and into the hall, the sting of them tearing at her heart like claws.

"What does he mean by that? You told me you never knew your father." Tom said softly.

"I don't...but-" She dug through her purse and realized what she was looking for wasn't inside. "It's complicated."

Tom tried to speak but she held her hand out to dismiss his reply. "I'm leaving. Please don't follow me...I need to be alone for awhile." He opened his mouth to speak, but all he heard was a loud CRACK as she disappeared into the night air.

* * *

He walked alongside the river for what felt like hours, the summer breeze ruffling through his hair like a misguided hand. The night had indeed proven interesting and aside from Lyra's woes, it had proved most opportunistic for himself.

" _You possess something that is extremely valuable to me..._ "

Madam Celestin's words echoed through his head as he tried to understand what she had meant. " _What could I possibly possess that could be of any value to her?_ "

The riverside was eerily quiet, the scattered street lights reflecting off the water's smooth surface. Tom made his way down a small bank and sat, twirling his wand absentmindedly in his hands.

" _What if I told you there was a way la belle amie could be yours forever?...There is power in numbers my dear Tom. Do you think I am the most powerful witch in the city because I rely only upon myself?_ "

He frowned at her words and felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. " _Her words are true...I can only do so much by myself. Upon my return I will need numbers, even greater than those I left behind to stand with me if I am to infiltrate the ministry. But still…_ "

The idea of binding himself to another felt self deprecating, a betrayal and violation of his own body and mind. His mind turned towards Lyra and he felt his nausea slightly dissipate." _There are worse people that I could be considering. At least she's intelligent and somewhat like minded…her talents have been proven quite useful to me already..._ "

Tonight he had come to terms and finally acknowledged his growing desire for her, the impracticality and shock had shaken him and although he knew he should be ashamed for succumbing to the weak carnal desires that others seemingly rejoiced at, Madam Celestin's words tonight had eased his self-loathing.

" _Come now Tom, don't be so stubborn as to deny yourself the earthly pleasures in life, there is no shame in giving in to what comes naturally to us all. I see the way you look at her. I myself have fallen victim to my body's desires and here I am, still standing before you._ "

" _She is living proof that such desires don't have to signify weakness and that I could have both and still succeed...But what if my sentiments are one-sided?_ "

Tom thought back to their dance and how their faces had almost touched, his heart beating wildly as her hand had dropped from his shoulder to his chest and how she had squeezed his hand when it had all ended. He reflected on the numerous times she had saved his life, the small gifts she had given him and the way she had nursed him back to health when she could have easily left him to his fate.

" _Perhaps she feels the same…_ "

His mind raced back to the jealousy he had experienced as he saw her approached by another man and the rage he felt when she had been assaulted before his eyes in the garden. Tom growled in frustration. " _When did things change? How did this happen? How did I allow myself to fall victim to such frivolity?_ "

The conflict and rage battling on inside him finally reached its point as he grabbed his wand and flicked it angrily towards the river, a small explosion disturbed its smooth surface as water and underwater debri flew every, his lust to destroy something somewhat satisfied. Tom stood up from where he sat and wiped the water from his face, raking his hands through his damp hair that clung to his cheekbones. He had made up his mind.

* * *

Lyra sat miserably in her room as she raked through a few books scattered across the table, an empty glass of wine at her side as she tried to distract herself from the horrifying events of the evening.

" _Serves me right I suppose. I should have spent the night more practically._ " She put the book down softly as she refilled the glass and smiled thought to herself. " _How pathetic I must look._ "

A soft knock on the door broke her self pity as she watched it open, Tom's handsome face peering at her from the doorway.

"Tom? What are you doing here? I hope you didn't end your night early on my account, that wasn't my-"

"I told you before, I'm also not overly fond of large gatherings. Besides, the only person that I could stand talking to had left."

Lyra felt her cheeks blush and changed the subject. "How was your time spent with Madam Celestin? Productive I hope?"

Tom closed the door softly behind him. "Somewhat." He looked towards her and saw the emerald potion bottle lying on the table and frowned. "You almost turned before my eyes tonight."

"I know. It was reckless of me to forget the vial here, although things might not have gone that way if I hadn't lost my temper." She picked two glasses up from the table and poured them some wine, handing him the cup.

"Your anger seemed appropriate, given the circumstances."

"The night was a complete disaster, if I had known Cassian would be there I would have never gone." She shook her head in dismay.

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but why did he follow you into the garden?"

Lyra rolled her eyes in irritation. "He thought if he professed his feelings for me, I would return back to work."

"Would you ever consider it?"

"I told you before I have no interest in him...and after tonight's events I think I loathe him even more."

"You misunderstand me. I meant would you ever consider going back to work?"

She remained silent for a moment and sighed. "No. I'm afraid it's too late for that...and besides I have other, more pressing matters to attend to."

"And after you are finished?"

Lyra sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. "No. I'm not even sure I'll even have a purpose once all of this is over.."

"Why did you leave? The way you were talked about tonight, it seemed as if you were nothing short of a prodigy."

"Aside from the manifestation of my current dilemma...I found myself no longer enjoying the work I did. I made a mistake and I-I found myself unable to deal with the consequences."

"You unable to deal with the consequences? Now why do I find that hard to believe?" He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I do rather find it curious though that MACUSA has an entire branch of government devoted to Curse Breaking...why is that? It seems with your talents you could have easily had your pick of any department."

The question made her laugh and she looked at him curiously. "In Europe things are different. All the curse breakers work for Gringotts primarily, am I right?"

He nodded in agreement. "More or less."

"That is because your governments see fit to hand everything of value over to greedy little beasts who in turn protect their coin. North America is not the same. Before the colonization of our country there were small magical settlements spread throughout the land, with hundreds of miles between them. These people had very little and did not have treasure or wealth, so there are very few artifacts to be had. But there are curses...old curses that continue to cause problems even now. It is impossible to track all of the places that these communities placed roots, as they moved around frequently and as No-Maj's continue to populate and build their communities upon ancient burial grounds and cursed land, certain phenomena and strange events have threatened our wizarding statutes. North America is significantly larger than Europe Tom, MACUSA takes it upon themselves to assume responsibility for the safety of all."

Tom sipped his wine as he looked at her. "It seems an interesting line of work."

"It is dangerous work...complicated in every aspect. The curses are often complex and very old, their languages foreign and outdated. Sometimes the job is simple and the dangers are minimal, in some instances the curse may be so strong it could disfigure you for life." She pointed towards her mismatched eyes and continued on. "On occasion removing a curse could take years and in some cases...the curse can't be lifted at all."

He watched as an array of emotions flooded her face. "Have you ever come across a curse you were unable to resolve?"

"Once. The last time I ever went out on a job for MACUSA. In my hubris I underestimated the situation...and the only colleague I had ever respected, died."

Lyra looked down into her glass morosely and Tom, sensing her discomfort, changed the subject quickly.

"Cassian mentioned...your father."

"He is not my father. Nor is he Cassian's. We are not related." Lyra sighed as he paced around the room. "I told you it's a complicated situation."

"After tonight I realized that everything that surrounds you is somewhat complicated." He laughed as he sipped from his glass.

She smiled as she sat down next to him. "Although I think you of all people might understand the circumstances."

"And why would that be?"

"You mentioned the other day that you were born in an orphanage."

Tom clenched his jaw and looked away uncomfortably, Lyra noticed his hands balled in his lap and slowly moved her small delicate hand towards one of his own, placing it gently on top. "I myself was placed in a sort of temporary living situation. When I was barely ten years old...my mother died. I had no father, no other family to claim me and I was placed with a close friend of my mothers, who raised me. He did it for a few other children, Cassian included...that is how we met. So as you see...it's complicated."

Tom looked at the small hand on top of his and felt the warmth spread from his fingertips to his body as he frowned. "How did your mother die?"

"I'm afraid I'm not in much of a mood to discuss that tonight after all of today's exciting events." She said softly, her expression distant and forlorn.

"I've asked too much of you tonight." Tom said as he gently rose from the bed, placing his glass down on the table, straightening his suit jacket as he turned to leave.

"Tom?"

He turned around towards her, his hand holding the doorknob.

"Thank you for your concern, I know the two of us always haven't...seen fit to confide in each other, but you've helped ease the weight of tonight's misfortunes from my shoulders."

He carefully chose his words and nodded. "I enjoyed our talk tonight...very much. I hope that after tonight you find that you can place your trust in me."

Lyra walked over towards the door, escorting him out and leaned against its frame. A small laugh escaped her lips and she smiled enthusiastically. "We'll see." She watched as he walked towards his room and closed the door behind her, a gentle flush rising on her face.

* * *

 **This was probably one of the longest chapters I've ever written, but I really didn't know where to chop it. I also acknowledge that it came super fast, but I'm trying to write as much as possible before I go back to work and I'm SWAMPED and have less time for writing than I have been recently used to. I had a lot of fun writing this one and I hope you all enjoyed it! Madam Celestin is turning out to be much darker than she appears on the surface, no? And I hope everyone enjoyed the tiny bit of insight into Lyra's life (I promise more is coming but all in due time.) and the tiny bits of fluff in the chapter. Let me know what you think and don't forget to review, favorite and follow if you enjoy it!**

 **Thank you so much KiraCalico for your review! I'm going to try to address your review & break it all down, addressing each point!**

 **Yes, finally uncovered what Lyra did before she met Tom. MACUSA. It's so funny you mentioned Curse Breaking in your review because it's actually something I was planning to address. I think curse breaking in America would be completely different than Europe because of the way our cultures were built. Native Americans did not have much physical wealth as they had cultural wealth and there are always tons of legends/horror stories floating around that are built upon the idea that you don't mess with their ancestral or burial grounds on the basis of them being cursed. I think North American wizards would have a lot on their plates trying to keep their society well hidden. When the History of Magic in North America was dropped on Pottermore, I disagreed with Jk Rowling's interpretation of how Native American magic was portrayed, like some kind of earthy feeble magic. In true history it goes way deeper than that, so I'm trying to find a way to incorporate some more depth into the subject. As for the traditional role curse breakers play in the acquiring of Ancient Artifacts for Gringotts, I tried to keep in mind that most American families were immigrants from other countries and would either treasure their valuables or if they decided to part with them, would sell them to a secondhand shop or interested buyer. There wouldn't be many items of value in the native land to uncover that goblins would necessarily covet, therefore Curse Breaking in America takes on a completely different role. I think because of the vast amount of territory North America covers on the globe, MACUSA would definitely have more departments and roles within their ministry to "lighten the load". I think Lyra went into the perfect profession to help her further her understanding and capabilities of the Dark Arts.**

 **Cassian is definitely a jerk and I'm glad he comes off that way because it is completely intended.**

 **Tom's motives will definitely expand throughout the story and especially in upcoming chapters/series (As it stands right now I'm probably going to end up with one or two additional stories that will stand as sequels to this), right now his purpose is to collect knowledge about forbidden magic around the world and head back to England to formulate his plan and rally the troops. I'm unsure if Tom ever really thought anything was broken in the magical system aside from the admittance of Muggles. His blind hatred towards his father and self-loathing eventually led to his own demis, I find it hard to think anything he did was for anyone but himself. His ultimate motivation was to be better than his peers and to make everyone (Muggles, Half-Bloods and Purebloods) pay for all the suffering he had endured. I think that Tom Riddle and Voldemort are two different identities, but the former's pain inevitably led to the creation of the other.**

 **And last (but not least), I chose Marvolo instead of Gaunt ( and believe me I really did toy with the idea of using Gaunt) because of the company Tom is in. We all know why Tom doesn't want to be associated with his REAL last name in public for two reasons! 1) He doesn't want anything he does to be traced back to him and 2) He's still in the process of trying to shed that name. If Tom were to use the last name Gaunt in the company of the likes of Madam Celestin (who is extremely smart and resourceful) she might recognize it from american wizarding history (Gormlaith Gaunt) and take it upon herself to look into his relations. (For spoiler reasons I can't really go too much into this) Through the name Gaunt, he might be able to be traced by his relation through Merope and if traced even further, to Salazar Slytherin. (Right now he has not yet come out publicly as the heir to Slytherin.) By using his middle name, he remains rather ambiguous.**

 **I always look forward to your reviews!**


	34. Chapter 34

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **After the murder of Hepzibah Smith, Tom Riddle disappeared for ten long years. He sank deeper into the Dark Arts & pursued knowledge that others could only dream of, consorting with the darkest members of wizarding society. With his eyes set on North America, he has no idea that the magic he so desperately seeks will shape his life & his inevitable future for years to come. TomxOC**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's and my own storyline.**

* * *

 **Tom,**

 **Meet me at 1201 Conti St on the eve of tomorrow night at eight o' clock.**

 **Come alone and please be prompt. Time is of the essence.**

 **Respectfully,**

 **Madam Celestin.**

Tom stared at the scrawling script in his hands and rubbed his face, numb with exhaustion. He had barely slept the night before, his head swimming with thoughts about his current situation. The owl had arrived shortly after he had arrived back at his room but he had not seen the urgency to open it until he had awoken this morning.

" _I need to be careful. Madam Celestin appears to be just as dark as the rumours Lyra had heard. I must take every precaution to ensure that she does not catch me off guard with her predilections. She wants something from me, I'm just unsure as to what it is._ "

He opened his briefcase carefully and slid the ring from off his finger, placing it into the large sack containing the rest of his horcruxes. His hands gently rose to his neck and he slipped the necklace off hesitantly, staring at its smooth surface before doing the same, closing the case tightly and locking it with the strange words none knew but him.

He looked towards his neatly made bed and stared at the carefully folded suit which he had placed towards the foot of the mattress and frowned as he thought about the events from the previous night.

" _No doubt Madam Celestin will want my decision..._ "

He scowled as still he pondered the idea, a small voice rising in the back of his mind. " _Think to the future, think about the possibilities it could offer you. You have already ripped your soul apart to create your horcruxes, what does it matter if you share a bit of flesh?_ "

He stood up as he paced the room, weighing the options in his mind. " _Think of all of the control you could have, none would be able to renounce you with the mark on their skin. All your devotees called to you whenever you pleased, whenever you needed._ "

He felt his heart skip in excitement until he realized what it had entailed and his elation dropped. " _All of this depends on if Lyra would agree to this...and I'm not so sure she will. She's quite...strong-minded. Although Madam Celestin told me she could persuade her, I don't see how that is a possibile._ "

He grimaced as he thought about her experiences from the night before. " _She is quite fragile right now, I need to be careful if I decide to go through with this, one tactless move and the opportunity could be lost._ " Tom felt the warm surge of desire creep into his body once more as he recalled their dance and how her skin had felt on his and rubbed his chin in concentration. " _If I concede to this...my future will change exponentially...in more ways than one. Am I ready to embrace that?_ "

* * *

The sun had started to set in the sky as Lyra tossed another book across the room in frustration. " _I'm losing patience. I know it has only been a day past the ball but I had hoped to receive word from Madam Celestin about my request. The faster I know the outcome, the quicker I'll be able to figure out where to go next. I've exhausted all of these books and I'm getting tired of reading and re-reading them to see if I've missed anything."_

She looked towards her cloak hanging by the door and bit her lip. " _There is still one option I haven't yet explored...I had hoped to do that first before-I just hope this week's events haven't ruined it. There's still a good chance that he'll be able to give me some insight...although I won't be able to go empty handed...I'll have to make amends somehow._ "

Lyra ignored the nagging feeling in her gut as she ripped open her wardrobe and grabbed a vial filled with a milky yellow liquid from off the shelves and threw it into her open purse; reaching for her cloak before closing the door behind her.

" _I don't have a choice. I can't sit here and do nothing._ "

* * *

Tom walked up the side street and found himself at the gates of a cemetery, the mist settling across the earth as he carefully made his way inside, looking for the statuesque figure of Madam Celestin.

" _Strange…_ " He thought as he walked by the concrete tombs, varying in shapes and sizes, warped and twisted amongst the dirt. the cemetery very unlike any he had ever stepped foot in before.

"Tom."

He turned around to see Madam Celestin, dressed entirely in black, her robes encompassing her like a dark shroud. "Your timing is indefectible."

"Punctuality is of the utmost importance to me." He said softly as she walked past him, beckoning her to follow him. He furrowed his brows as she spoke once more. "Why is it we meet in such a place?"

She smiled as she walked over to a tomb and bent over to pick up some dirt in her hand. "When one looks to the dead for answers, is it not appropriate to go where they can be sought out?"

He remained silent as she looked towards the tomb to her left and pulled out a knife from her pocket, holding it against her palm and dragging it slowly across her skin. She held her hand before it's door and squeezed her hand into a fist, Tom watched as droplets of blood fell before it's stone seal and sizzled against the soil, the tomb opening slowly.

"Blood Magic-" Madam Celestin said as she entered through the small passage. "-has its uses. Are you familiar with the practice?"

"Quite." He said as he followed her through the small crevice. "Although I must confess as of late my uses for it have been quite minimal-"

"Up until now." Madam Celestin said as she interrupted him and clapped her hands as a staircase lit with torches appeared before them. "Mind your step Tom."

He followed her down the stone steps and placed his hand into his pocket, grasping his wand firmly for assurance. "Where are we?"

Madam Celestin ignored his question until they had reached the bottom of the stone steps, waving her hands around at the dark corridor before them, the walls lined with small wooden coffins that had been set into the dirt. "My ancestral tomb."

Following her through the narrow corridor, he looked towards the coffins on either side of him and noticed fingernail scratches on the outside of the wood, concentrated around the edges of their lids, the grooves lined with blood and dirt. Tom felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge as he asked quietly. "How many are buried here?"

He heard her laugh as she continued down the tomb. "Enough."

Tom narrowed his eyes as he moved cautiously behind her, wary of his footsteps as he started to notice large puddles on the ground before him, the amounts growing the deeper into the mausoleum they ventured.

"Do you know why most people are buried above ground in New Orleans?" Madam Celestin said silkily, her head turning towards him.

"The water level." Tom said softly as he frowned, the ground becoming less dirt and more water and they continued on.

"Very good. Yes, when this city was built it was often difficult to bury the deceased without watching their caskets float down the street in a heavy rain. As you can imagine, the sight was not-agréable."

"Burying the dead above ground has proven its difficulties for those of us who require certain...ingredients for our spells." Madam Celestin came to a stop in front of a large coffin and pulled the knife out from her robes once more. "But there are ways around this."

Tom watched as she took the knife and plunged it fiercely into the coffin to her left, repeating the steps until a small amount of dust poured out from within.

"Take this." She shoved a small bag into his hands and motioned for him to hold it under the particles of dust that poured from the coffin. "We will need it for later."

He gave her a curious look as he filled the bag and sealed it, holding it in his hand as they continued down the dark tomb until she stopped before a large stone door. Madam Celestin murmured a few inaudible words under her breath and he watched in amazement as the stone rumbled and rolled itself aside slowly.

"Forgive me for my curiosity, but I have noticed you carry no wand." Tom said, the older witch tipping her head backwards to laugh.

"I have no need of a wand." She said as she looked towards him, her obsidian eyes glistening as her mouth tugged upwards into an arrogant grin. "My magic is not like yours. It is unchained, uninhibited..."

She motioned for him to walk through the stone archway and follow him closely, closing the door behind them with the wave of her hand. "It is old magic...ancient. It does not come from the land in which your forefathers built, but instead from Africa. It is raw and emblazoned with power, very much different from the magic which you are taught."

" _Vodou_." He thought to himself quietly and turned towards her, watching the arrogance spread across her face. " _She is certainly cavalier about the magic she possesses. If I were to express my doubt about her magic's capabilities, it would ensure her cooperation._ "

"I fail to see how your magic is stronger than mine." He said gently and shrugged his shoulders, holding out the small bag of funeral dust towards her.

Tom tried to suppress a conceited grin as she whipped around and grabbed the bag from his hands, hissing through her teeth "After what I show you tonight, you will no longer doubt who's magic is stronger."

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to offend." He said softly, her onyx eyes searching his face. Madam Celestin motioned towards their surroundings and Tom realized that she had led them into a giant circular tomb, it's walls made of smooth grey stone. She clapped her hands and a series of torches lit around the room, illuminating a large altar at its center, raised up on a few steps so it looked down upon everything else.

"What you will see here tonight, you will never see again. It is an ancient ceremony which few outsiders have been able to witness...it is a secret which we heavily guard."

"I am honored that you think me worthy enough to bear witness to-"

"Worthy?" Madam Celestin laughed, her eyes sparkling. "None are worthy who do not follow our practices. You have something I want Tom, in exchange I will let you observe the power that people only dare to dream about." She held her arm out and pulled her sleeve back to reveal the small tattoo she had shown him at the ball. Pressing her finger into the strange marking she closed her eyes and whispered something in a different language, inaudible to his ears.

Tom watched as cloaked figures apparated into the room before them and bowed before her, their faces focused on the ground as they kneeled in respect. Peering under their hoods Tom was sure he recognized a small handful that he had seen at the ball, but could not be certain. His curiosity was interrupted by a loud hiss and he watched as the same large snake that he had seen at the shop slithered out from the shadows towards them. It's white scales glittering eerily as it made its way across the room towards them, the light from the torches dancing across its reptilian hide.

"I don't think I've introduced you yet to my most faithful servant, Zombi." Madam Celestin said as the serpent slithered up her leg and around her body, until it settled loosely atop her neck and shoulders, its head swaying towards Tom, narrowing its beady yellow eyes.

" _We meet again._ " The serpent hissed at him.

Tom made no gesture towards the snake and instead focused his eyes on Madam Celestin, who stared at him strangely. "Alarie!" She said loudly as she clapped her hands, the young girl walking out calmly from the shadows as her name was spoken.

"You know what it is I need. The rest of you-" She pointed towards the congregation kneeling before her, "-prepare the room."

Tom watched as Madam Celestin motioned for him to follow her towards the altar, passing two figures that placed a small wooden coffin in the center of the room, followed by another who carried a crate filled with chickens, their panicked clucking echoing off the sounds of the walls. The rest gathered into a half circle that encompassed the span of the room, waiting on her word. Tom watched as the remaining figures who had yet to join the ranks placed clay pots filled with various herbs and ingredients onto the altar and bowed as Madam Celestin passed, quickly retreating back their spots in the half-moon formation.

Madam Celestin clapped her hands once more and Tom turned around, his ears filling with the sound of drums beating dangerously around them, growing louder in volume as it filled the chamber, followed by voices and ominous singing. He turned his head towards Madam Celestin and narrowed his eyes suspiciously in the direction of the coffin.

"That is not for you." She said, amusement twinkling in her eyes for a moment before they turned cold and dark. "But before we begin, I'm afraid I must settle our arrangement."

"You told me I possessed something you value." He said slowly.

"Yes." She smiled at him hungrily. "You possess a very rare gift and I am very much in need of it."

Tom looked towards the snake on her shoulder as it flicked its tongue towards him dangerously. Madam Celestin reached into her pocket and brought a small talisman up to her nose, murmuring quietly until her eyes rolled into the back of her head. He watched as the snake's eyes turned black, it's head swaying towards him before speaking, Zombi's voice changed and different, less reptilian than before and more like the woman who he had been standing next to.

"You are a parselmouth."

" _The snake. She had possessed it. I knew there was something strange that day Lyra and I-_ "

He scowled as he replied to her in parseltongue, angry that his secret had been discovered. "Yes. But what use could you possibly have of my talent. You already can speak it-"

"I cannot. I can only control Zombi through possessing him, his tongue is not my own and it is lacking in certain skills..."

"I don't understand."

He watched as the serpent's eyes turned yellow once more and Madam Celestin returned to her body, eyeing him carefully before she pulled another large talisman from her pocket and held it out in her hands.

"I am in need of your gift to access powers that have been denied to me."

Tom looked down at a large green stone the size of a chicken's egg in her hand.

"A horned serpents jewel…" He murmured softly as his eyes focused greedily on the object, his heart racing in excitement.

"Unadulterated, unmarred-in its original form. A very rare specimen indeed." Madam Celestin said silkily before quickly placing it back into her pocket. "There are very few left that exist...it is taboo here to hunt the horned serpents gem. The few that exist were either parted with willingly or-"

"Taken." Tom said icily, narrowing his eyes towards her. She nodded her head slightly and continued.

"This one appears to have been acquired by the latter...it's powers are dormant and all my efforts to open them to me have proved-fruitless. Over time I became aware the only reason I have not been able to harness it's abilities is because the serpent whom this belonged to sealed away its power in spite. I realized I would be unable to acquire these gifts for myself, since I do not speak in the same tongue. So I waited for years in hopes that one day I would find someone who possessed the skill I required, I had for the most part, lost all hope that it would ever be of use to me until that fateful day you entered my shop." She smiled as she stroked the white snake lovingly. "To think, the chance would have slipped through my fingers if it were not for Zombi."

Tom stared at her for a moment before carefully speaking. "So in return for sharing with me the magic I desire, all I need to do is-"

"Command the jewel to open, yes. That is all...a rather easy exchange, wouldn't you say mon chéri? In fact, I believe you'll be getting more out of the arrangement-two for one-That is...if you have decided whether or not to accept my offer from last night. Either way that is up to you."

"The way you presented it to me, the decision is not truly mine...I would need her consent to even-"

"There are ways to direct her towards you. But I will discuss that later." Madam Celestin said as she rubbed her finger against the altar and wiped the dust from it. "So are we in agreement?"

He considered her offer for a moment and quietly nodded, a large grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She quickly turned towards the congregation, clapping her hands loudly. "We begin now. Alarie, bring our guest forward."

* * *

Lyra pulled the hood of her cloak closer towards her face as she stood in front of the dark pub, its thick red curtains drawn to cover the dim lighting that flickered from inside. She looked upwards towards the golden plaque hanging above her head that swayed in the night air and held her breath, trying to calm it from what she had just done.

" _It's not too late...you can still set everything right and turn back. No one would even have to suffer._ "

She stared at the thick wooden door before her and steeled herself, reaching for the handle. " _No. There's no other way, you can't leave any stone unturned._ "

Pushing the door in gently, she walked into the abandoned bar and quickly glanced around the room. The tables and chairs were all abandoned, there was no sign of life except for the golden glow of the candles against the walls, the wax from each accumulated into small cascading piles that fell down from each table. Lyra looked towards the empty bar and grimaced, pulling a seat out slowly and sitting, her legs crossed in front of her anxiously. She had only been sat for a moment when a silky voice addressed her angrily, walking out from the shadows.

"You dare come back to this place after what you did?"

Lyra stared at the enraged vampire before her and spoke softly. "Germain. My apologies for what transpired earlier this week...but the events were out of my control."

"You killed one of my oldest and most loyal servants."

"You were going to eat my friend." She said, tapping her fingers on the table impatiently. "You gave me quite a challenge though, even after we took our leave. That poison proved- difficult."

He laughed dangerously as he approached her, his footsteps inaudible and silent. "My most recent innovation, it proves quite useful."

"It's quite illegal." Lyra said as she narrowed her eyes. "If MACUSA knew...they would not be so pleased."

Germain scowled. "I do not think you will tell them."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because I know you need me, otherwise you would not be here." He smiled at her, his sharp pointed teeth gleaming in the candlelight. "Besides, you have always been a friend to my kind in the past. It is the only reason you left...unharmed."

Lyra frowned. "I have never agreed with those who feel you should be kept far away from wizarding society, you know I used to speak out against your misfortunes...but that poison is concerning."

"It is necessary." He said, his eyes gleaming in disdain. "MACUSA has been lax in providing us the proper provisions we need to survive. It has led us back to our old ways of procuring our own food...but even still I cannot provide enough for all my children. The poison allows them to feed, well after the body has succumbed to death."

"Have you not spoken of your plight to-."

"You'll find the Magical Congress is not the same as when you were there. Not all are as-sympathetic as you when it comes to the treatment of those of us outside the wizarding community. And none else would dare even speak on our behalf." Germain frowned. "I have decided against pursuing useless efforts while my children starve. We have instead turned towards ourselves once more."

"You will be hunted once more my old friend if you are not careful." Lyra spoke solemnly, shaking her head.

"Perhaps..." he said slyly. "Perhaps not. Madam Celestin seems quite open to providing us with what we need."

"Madam Celestin I think seeks to have her hand in every pot in this city."

Germain chuckled softly. "What else would you have us do?"

Lyra sighed and tapped her fingers on the table once more. "Forgive me for my judgement. I'm not myself...You're right in your assumption that I need something from you...and to show you that there are no hard feelings between us, I brought you a gift."

Germain raised his eyebrow skeptically. "A gift?"

"If you send one of your... _children_ out towards the alley next to us, they'll find them."

"Them?"

"Yes. Sleeping, unaware of the world around them…I made it so. I understand it's been awhile since we last spoke and I always knew your tastes swayed towards the fairer sex...But I couldn't remember what you preferred, blonde, brunette or redheads. So I brought you one of each."

Germain gave her a strange look and quickly snapped his fingers towards the shadows, a vampire stepped out into the light, pale and gaunt with long blonde hair. He whispered into the vampire's ear and Lyra watched as the vampire quickly nodded and disappeared, leaving the both of them in silence.

"He's not as adept as Silas was when you-"Germain grimaced and made a small motion with his hand to complete the sentence. "But he'll learn."

Lyra frowned apologetically and opened to her mouth to say something when suddenly, the blonde vampire reappeared and nodded towards Germain, who dismissed him with the wave of his hand.

"A generous and thoughtful gift indeed." Germain said as he pulled out the chair across from Lyra and smiled, sitting down softly.

"Treat them with dignity. Do not turn them."

"You take all the fun from it. But of course, as you wish." His strange eyes glinted dangerously. "But I fail to see how could I possibly be of use to you? I hold no power that would-"

"I find myself...different." She said carefully, looking down at the flickering candles before her, her eyes focused on the flame. "And I am unsure as to why. There have been episodes...strange occurrences where I know that my body is no longer mine."

The vampire grew quiet, raising his hand to his chin as he stroked it languidly. "I understand how this would concern you. But I fear I do not know how I can help you."

"You can help me by simply doing what you do best."

"And that is?"

Lyra exposed the skin of her arm and smiled. "You are the oldest living vampire in America and I know the secrets blood can hold. Health, age, sex...for you it would be like counting the rings on a tree trunk."

Germain smiled, his white teeth sparkling. "While I'm pleased the opportunity arises once more for me to partake in how delicious wizards blood can be, I've already tasted yours earlier this week and I'm afraid to say there was nothing unusual about it."

"That's because the blood you drank was nearly five years old, my...affliction started three years after that bottle had been sealed and preserved." Lyra said quietly. "So I ask you again...will you do this for me?"

"To show you there is no bad blood between us...and for your kindness to us in the past...yes. I will do it."

"A cup then please." Lyra said as she pulled the small vial of yellow-milk like liquid from her purse. Germain frowned as he looked towards the vial.

"Milk of Allium. You do not trust me."

Lyra laughed as Germain grabbed a glass from behind the bar, wiping the dust from inside as he placed it before her. "You I trust completely, your appetite...not as much. In the event that your nature overwhelms your judgement...I will drink that and my blood will become poison to you, ensuring that I leave here alive and you will not have killed an old friend."

Germain considered her words for a moment and laughed heartily, amused at her response. "Your ingenuity never ceases to delight me."

She smiled and raised her arm above the glass, Germains cold hand sliding up her arm and grasping it firmly in place. Lyra took a deep breath and watched as he pressed a long translucent nail into the flesh of her arm and she bit her tongue, stifling the cry of pain that threatened to escape her lips.

Germain watched greedily as droplets of blood poured into the glass and spoke softly. "The root of all life..."

Her heart beat anxiously and felt her vision blur as a sudden weakness overcame her and slowly raised her hand towards the vial to her left. "Enough…". His eyes remained focused on her blood, hungry and wanton. "I said enough!"

Lyra said as she held the vial to her mouth, pulling back her arm as he quickly let it go. Realizing his transgression, he bowed his head softly and spoke. "Forgive me...the smell of blood is-intoxicating."

He pulled a napkin out from his lapel and held it over his nose while she pulled her wand out and waved it gently over her arm, murmuring as the wound slowly healed. Narrowing her eyes, she slowly pushed the cup towards him and spoke gently. "Please."

She watched in anticipation as his pale hand grabbed the glass, raising it up towards his face, swirling it around delicately before bringing it to his mouth and sipping from its well. He looked towards her eyes changing from delight to disgust as he coughed and spit the blood back into the cup, wiping the residue from his lips. Lyra felt her stomach drop and rose from her chair in alarm.

"Are you alright? What did you taste?" She said, her voice filled with concern.

He wiped his face with the fabric of his napkin and he turned his body from the cup in revulsion, pushing it towards her. "You are right to be concerned. The blood...it tastes unnatural."

"I don't-Unnatural?" Lyra said, her heart beating faster. "How so?"

"I do not know what it is, but your blood...there is something old about it, something wicked. I can taste the youth of your life, but behind it lurks something else...something I am not familiar with."

"I don't understand." She whispered, sinking back down into the chair.

He looked at her apologetically and frowned. "There is something that lives within you that should not be."

"Within me?" She bit her lip and thought quietly. " _How?_ "

"What does that mean?"

"You share your body with something else I'm afraid, something against nature."

"Similar to lycanthropy?" She hesitantly asked, feeling foolish for her lack of understanding. Germain shook his head in disagreement as he spoke in a low voice.

"No. Lycanthropy is more simple in nature, if bitten by a wolf the blood will change, but there will be no difference in the blood extracted from the beast than the blood of the human. Both are as one. In your case it is not so. There is your blood...and there is something else."

" _Something else?"_ Lyra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "How is that possible?"

"I'm unsure...but within the realm of magic anything is possible." Germain said, his eyes dark.

Lyra shivered and felt her skin break out into goose bumps at the idea. " _It appears the situation has just gotten more complicated than I originally anticipated._ "

"But who am I to say?" Germain said in a light-hearted fashion, walking over towards her and placing a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "I am not a practitioner of magic, my abilities are...stunted."

Lyra placed her delicate hand onto his and squeezed. "Thank you." She stood up from her chair and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head slowly. "I must be off to try to make sense of all this."

He smiled gently as he bowed his head. "I hope you find the answers that you seek. Farewell my old friend."

She nodded towards him and slipped out into the night, her heart heavy with the unsettling discovery.

* * *

 **Alrighty, another long one!**

 **BEFORE I GO INTO A CHAPTER RECAP: I will be back at work on Tuesday, (FINALLY) life is slowly going back to normal (very slowly) from Covid 19 and I will be SWAMPED at work. I'm currently working on the next chapter and HOPE to post it on Monday (if everything goes well), but afterwards I will try my best to update atleast once every week. If at first my updates seem slow it's just because I'm pooped. But I do intend to wrap this story up within the next couple weeks I promise. So stay with me, there's so much more coming. :3**

 **So much in this chapter to break down, Tom's going to get his chance to do some dark things next chapter. I didn't want to include it all in this one because once that gets underway, I think I'll need a full chapter to devote to what he's about to do! Anyway, we finally figured out Madam Celestin wants him for his parseltongue abilities, for her giant Horned Serpents gem! (I had a lot of fun writing that one) Vodou is rather interesting to read about, but although magical in nature is also VERY spiritual and religious and I had to draw a fine line between them to make them fit in the JK Rowling universe. I might be wrong, but religion is completely avoided in the books, so I tried to kind of completely avoid it in the story and kinda of try to avoid certain aspects. Vodou is OLD magic and comes from Africa and from what history JK Rowling released about Uagadou, African wizards do not use wands much either...so vodou not requiring a wand makes total sense to me, but I feel like they would also use certain familiar magical elements to their advantage as well (ie: apparition, wandless magic we've already seen, spell, curses etc.)**

 **Lyra also had a part in this chapter, remember when she saved Tom, Germain knew her, so I figured this was a nice little way to wrap that up. During her time at MACUSA and afterwards it seemed that her little black book was filled with all sorts of controversial characters & due to her blurred morals I don't find it hard to imagine she would sympathize with beings who are severely misunderstood. Now onto review responses:**

 **Kiracalico!**

 **Once again thank you so much for your review, Fanfiction's reviews were down for a bit so I couldn't actually SEE your review until a few days later.**

 **I do think it irks Tom to hide his magic so I can definitely see him growing his followers with THAT ideal, along with total segregation. I understand what you're saying about him being more of a zealot for change in his early years. We will DEFINATELY see him work his charm and feed people with what they want to hear to achieve his goals in the future.**

 **You called it with parseltongue! I'm glad you got that :) He is also developing his character more and I personally think that Tom Riddle would have more "human" traits in the beginning. I think he's trying to find a line where both his dreams and his desires meet in the middle. As someone who was neglected at the most crucial point in his life, I do think he would struggle with emotional and physical urges-they're challenging and as someone who has always fallen back on books and common sense, he would find no solutions to these problems in his safety mechanisms. His entire life he's disregarded love or empathy because he hasn't been taught how to properly navigate through the discomfort those emotions would bring him. A character like Madam Celestin is great for his character development because essentially here's this badass woman who basically pulls all the strings in her city from behind the scenes, has power and also indulges herself with all the pleasures of life that he has essentially denied himself and he's seeing little by little she is unaffected by it.**

 **In the first wizarding war he was SO charismatic, magnetic and electric that people could relate to him, they idolized him and empathized with his message so much so that they flocked to him, much like people flocked to Grindelwald.**

 **I think Lyra will provide a challenge to him because unlike his "gang" at Hogwarts, she isn't afraid of him. She's not horrified at the cruel things he tells her and to be honest she's got so much going on it's hard for her to care because she's off just doing her own messed up things to achieve her ends. (Delivering three innocent people to the vampires to get chomped on because she needs something from Germain isn't exactly honorable) . She's independent and strong, but as a character we can see she's slightly becoming more unwound and vulnerable the more she finds out about her problem. (Mix that in with Cassian exposing her past and Tom slowly prying into her personal problems) it'll be interesting to see if he is able to break through the cracks and flaws in her character to bend her to his will or if she will realize and become completely immune to his charms. (I can't say too much because of spoilers.)**

 **That being said I'm glad you're still hanging on and I always look forward to the reviews!**

 **And for all the new readers, please review, favorite or follow, it brings me so much joy to know people are enjoying the work as much as I enjoy writing it!**


	35. Chapter 35

**Inception: Rise of the Heir**

 **After the murder of Hepzibah Smith, Tom Riddle disappeared for ten long years. He sank deeper into the Dark Arts & pursued knowledge that others could only dream of, consorting with the darkest members of wizarding society. With his eyes set on North America, he has no idea that the magic he so desperately seeks will shape his life & his inevitable future for years to come. TomxOC**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's and my own storyline.**

* * *

Tom heard a stifled cry from behind them as Alarie dragged a man out from the shadows. He was old, wrinkle lines lay heavily upon his skin, his grey-white hair matted around his thin hairline. His arms were bound behind him with rope, his eyes covered with a scarf and he made a choking sound as he gagged on the cloth stuffed into his mouth, tears and sweat streaming down his face. Alarie led him before the altar, the drums beating heavily in the background.

"Release him from his bindings if you will." Madam Celestin said, motioning towards the young girl. Alarie pulled a knife from her robes and quickly cut the man loose, pulling the rags from his mouth and eyes hastily before walking away.

The man looked around the room and whimpered, sinking down to his knees with his hands clasped towards Madam Celestin. "P-please..please…I-I'll do anything. I'll -"

She raised her hand and cut him off, gently shaking her head. "There is nothing left to be done. I have been generous, far more generous than you deserve."

"B-but-"

"You came to me for aid and I helped you. But now there are debts to be paid. Instead of following my instructions and repaying me what was owed, you have squandered my generosity on liquor and your own pleasure-"

"-I have a family...p-please-"

"Yes. Your family. Who you have not seen in months, who you did not share any of your good fortune with. They will be fine without you I think."

Tom watched as the man sobbed before them and noticed a small black mark upon his arm when he raised his hands towards Madam Celestin once more.

"I beg you-"

"Enough!" Madam Celestin said as she raised her hands towards him and smiled, her grin sadistically twisted. Tom watched as the man's cries muffled, his mouth suddenly gone and in its place a smooth continuation of his skin. The man widened his eyes in horror as he raised a wrinkled hand to where his mouth should have been, clawing frantically to rip at the flesh that had sealed together.

She turned around towards Tom and smiled, the drums still beating loudly around them as she shrugged. "Not everyone accepts their fate gracefully."

"You place your mark upon those who do not possess magic." He whispered disdainfully. She turned towards him and smiled, the light from the torches glowing against her ebony skin. "I believe that everyone has a use, whether their abilities lie within the realm of magic or not."

"I thought your government frowned against fraternization with muggles."

"They are not _my_ government...no one rules over me. I do not adhere to their imbecelic restrictions. If you had spent more time in this city, you would know that most of us believe such measures are not beneficial to our livelihoods. You would be surprised at how often people without magical abilities bow down at your feet when they discover the advantages of aligning themselves with us."

He opened to his mouth to retort, but her hand rose to silence him.

" _I would never lower myself in such a manner. Muggles need to be shown their place in life, not fraternized with._ "

He angrily looked towards the man once more, crying frantically on the floor and flexed his jaw in agitation at the sound of her voice.

"Come now Tom. We must prepare."

Walking slowly over to her side, he watched as she took the empty clay bowl before her and reached for a few ingredients around the altar. She murmured to him quietly as she began, taking handfuls of ingredients from around her and combining them within the empty bowl. Madam Celestin raised each one towards him as she continued, ensuring that he understood her instructions. "Black salt…Herbs-made of mint and rosemary ...Funeral dirt."

He watched as she pulled the satchel of dust they had collected and shook it gently before pouring it into the bowl as well. She mixed the ingredients into the bowl with a pestle and ground them into a rough powder before she looked up and snapped her fingers. A figure came forward quickly and picked up the cage of chickens, ascending up the step to the altar and quickly opening it, while Madam Celestin pulled one of the foul out by its neck. She returned to her former position and grinned sadistically at the bird, placing the chicken down upon the smooth stone surface, it's frantic sounds trapped in it's throat grasped tightly under her fingertips, its feathers distended in fear. Without warning she suddenly pulled a knife from her robes, swiftly bringing the blade down to behead the animal and he watched as she held it's severed body, still twitching, over the bowl. It's blood oozed slowly into the powdered mixture and Tom watched the grizzly scene, noticing the hens feet still twitched, its nerves still reacting to the fatal blow.

"Three drops is all that is needed and-" She shoved her fingers into its body and plucked three bones from inside, throwing them into the bowl with indifference and grinding the concoction once more until it was compounded. "-a few drops of serpent's venom. Zombi-if you would."

She caressed the large snake, it's body slithering down her arm until it had reached the bowl. Zombi held his mouth open over the bowl, fangs bared, patiently waiting as she reached into his mouth and squeezed, a few clear drops dripping into the bowl before he withdrew and slinked back to his position atop her shoulders.

Tom felt his heart pound heavily as she turned towards him, her hands covered in blood, her plush mouth parted slightly while she extended her hand out towards him. The blood still dripped off the tip of the blade as she motioned for him to take it, her eyes penetrating and cold. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the vulgar weapon, confusion spreading across his face.

"Take it." She hissed. "If this is the magic you so desperately desired, you will take it so you can finish what needs to be done."

He felt the yellow eyes of Zombi upon him as he held his hand out, hesitating momentarily. "I do not need to use this crude tool, I have my w-"

She interrupted him, her voice low and dangerous. "How cowardly wizards have become that they need to hide behind little sticks made of wood. It might serve you up there." She pointed upwards, to the tombs roof. "But it will not down here. You will do things my way. The old way."

Tom's anger rose at her insults and he took the blade from her hands, hearing the snake hiss at his displeasure. Tom looked towards Zombi and frowned, its yellow eyes piercing his own. He opened his mouth to ask what it was he needed to do, unsure of her intentions, but the snake's raspy voice addressed him instead.

" _Your task awaitss you. Do not make uss wait._ " Its white head turned towards the pitiful man before looking back at Tom, its tongue flicking anxiously in and out from its mouth. " _To create life, you musst take it_."

He considered Zombi's words momentarily before he narrowed his eyes and walked down the altar towards the kneeling man, whose noises had all but stopped, his demeanor now distant, far away, as if he had always resigned himself to his fate. He pulled the man up from the ground firmly and leaned his body against his leg, his heart beating fiercely as the sounds of drums and chanting filled his ears, rising to the dangerous atmosphere. Pressing the knife to the man's neck, he was suddenly reminded of Lyra words, how she had described what it felt like to take someone's life, without a wand, without the aid of magic and he grasped the leathery skin and sinew under his fingers.

" _It takes far more willpower to kill someone with your bare hands. You can see the fear in their eyes, you can feel their delicate bones underneath your hands and you can feel the life slip away from underneath you as they grow cold beneath your fingertips_."

His own heart pounding heavily in his ears, Tom tilted the man's head upwards, his dark brown eyes meeting a fearful hazel. Without hesitation he pressed the blade down into his neck and slowly dragged it across his skin, feeling the man's warm blood flow forth from the fatal wound. He steadied his hand on the blade, feeling it almost slip from his grasp, slick with blood and watched the emotions in the man's eyes change. Fear turned to shock, a strange gurgling escaped from the slit and Tom observed the color in his eyes growing dull, signifying that life had left his body.

" _Is this what empowers you?_ " He silently asked, as if Lyra stood beside him, marveling at his feat. His chest heaved slowly, taking a deep breath as he admired his handiwork, feeling a strange warmth fill his body full of pride and satisfaction. He had killed before, but it had never felt like this.

" _When it is finished, you feel what it is you have done radiate through your entire body...because you and you alone did it. To me that is power._ "

" _To take a life without magic...I now understand why she would idolize such methods, there is more satisfaction to be had. But such archaic practices are unnecessary...too time consuming-_ " He stepped back from the limp body, letting it drop to the floor like a rag doll as he looked down to the knife and his blood covered hands, grimacing. "- _and filthy beyond measure. Madam Celestin prefers these conditions but I have a feeling the cause of death whether knife or wand does not make any difference._ "

"You've done well Tom."

He broke from his thoughts as Madam Celestin appeared beside him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder, reaching out for the knife. She murmured quietly into his ear. "I feel that I am right in my assumptions that you have taken life before. How intoxicating it can be, no?"

Zombi slithered down her shoulders and curled up at her feet, hissing in delight at his actions. Tom felt a grin tug at his lips and placed the blade into her outstretched hand, watching her delicately clean it off on her robes before kneeling next to the body. She raised the deceased man's head, pressing the bowl under his wound and waited patiently as his blood leaked into it's well. Satisfied with the amount she had collected, Madam Celestin placed the bowl down upon the ground and used the knife to cut a few locks of hair from his head, mixing it in with the rest of the grisly ingredients.

"The hair and blood is essential." She whispered as she formed the mixture into a small cake. "You need items that once belonged to the corpse."

When she had finished Madam Celestin clapped her hands and waited as two members of the congregation picked the man's corpse from off the floor and placed him into the coffin. "Do as I say and you will know what it is to create life."

She waved her hand over the man's face and waited until his mouth reappeared, opening it slowly and with her other hand handed the bowl to Tom. "The cake must be placed inside."

He looked towards the grotesque medley of blood, dirt and hair, trying to ignore the putrid smell as he scooped it out with his hands and brought it towards the man's lips, the cold touch of death on his skin as he placed the foul concoction inside. Madam Celestin nodded in gratification, closing the man's mouth before she stood up, waiting as a hooded figure stepped towards her, placing a small clay jar into her hands.

Looking down towards him, she opened the jar and handed it to Tom. "Are you familiar with the nature of spirits Mr. Marvolo?"

He felt his heart skip at the sound of his pseudo alias and lied, thinking back to the creations of his horcruxes. "A little, although I hardly would consider myself as knowledgeable as you."

Madam Celestin smiled at him arrogantly and continued. "Spirits linger on even after the body has been-ravaged. In order to reanimate _le_ _zombi cadavre_ in the future, we must trap its soul in this world. It cannot be allowed to pass into the next."

"I see...and in capturing its soul you-"

"Control its very existence...yes."

" _Interesting...it would appear the creation of an Inferi and a horcrux are similar in theory. Perhaps I'm also correct in thinking that all of these extra...steps...are necessary when one does not practice magic with a wand or is unable to use the killing curse due to the restrictions of this country. I will not have to worry about either of these hindrances when I return home._ " He smiled as she turned away from him as the beating of the drums eased slightly, the sound more menacing than before, reminding him of a slow beating heart.

Tom watched as she placed her hands over the corpse and started to murmur in a language he did not fully understand. The mixture of french and another tongue he did not recognize did not bother him, he already knew the words that needed to be spoken. Instead, he kept a close watch on her hands and the way she delicately moved them about the body, repeating the motions and phrases over and over until a light blue mist rose from the corpses lips. An evil grin spread across his face as the familiar scene played out before his eyes.

Madam Celestin motioned for him to grab the small clay container and he obliged, watching as she captured the corporeal mist inside it and closed the lid slowly. Placing it gently beside her she took up the knife once more and tore fabric from the deceased man's clothing, shoving it into Tom's hands.

"This is perhaps the most important part. To keep the soul in its place you must trick it into thinking it still resides within the body. Wrap the cloth tightly around the seal and follow me." She commanded firmly, lifting herself from up off the ground, wiping the dirt and residue from her clothing.

He followed her instructions and when he had finished he tied the fabric off tightly, following her shrouded figure back towards the altar. Zombi slithered behind her closely and curled up tightly at her feet, his head swaying dangerously back and forth.

"Place it here Tom." She motioned towards the altar, still covered in blood and dirt as he situated it in front of her, his finger sliding off the jar slowly. Madam Celestin nodded and raised her arms upwards above her head and started to chant. The flames of the candles around the altar that had danced wildly throughout the entire process suddenly became eerily still and Tom felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as her words echoed around them.

"Cruelest of servants, your soul I now own

Your master awakens you from your dark demise

Blood from thine own heart, ashes from bone  
From the doors of the underworld, I bid thee rise"

Tom felt the goosebumps on his arm rise, the room suddenly dropping in temperature as a cold chill set in. He was unsure of when the drums had stopped beating, but the sudden absence of noise seemed louder to him than the strange haunting rhythms had. A small groan emanated from the wooden coffin placed in the middle of the room, followed by a choked gurgling. He narrowed his eyes, observing a leathery hand move slowly from inside the coffin, the sound of nails scratching against the wooden siding could be heard as the animated corpse suddenly rose from the box, its eyes clouded and hollow. Tom suffocated a gasp as Madam Celestin turned to smile at him, her eyes cold and smug.

"Now you see why our magic is stronger than yours. Only here can such feats be accomplished, to make the dead living once more."

"Incredible." He whispered as he watched the corpse stand inside the box, like a puppet waiting for its master to pull the strings.

"Indeed it is." She said, watching a hungry look take over his dark features. She slowly picked up the clay jar and whispered into it, like a loving parent would speak to its child.

"You've done well my serviteur, sleep and await my word."

Tom watched as the corpse fell where it stood, its body laying in a crumpled heap inside the box. Madam Celestin clapped her hands and pointed towards her congregation and spoke. "You know where the body must be taken. After that leave us. I am no longer in need of your services tonight-Alarie!" She said loudly as she looked behind them, the young girl scuttling towards them her head bowed. "Take Zombi and make sure he feeds well."

" _Perhapss we shall meet again…_ " The snake looked towards Tom and bowed its head, slithering from her feet and continued to follow the girl into the shadows along with the others, leaving the two of them alone in the dark tomb together.

Tom frowned as he looked towards her, disappointed that she had commanded the corpse no further, extinguishing his excitement.

"You are disappointed somehow?" She said silkily, her obsidian eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I had hoped that I would see more."

Madam Celestin let out a soft laugh. "What would you have liked to see? More blood? More death? I think we have seen enough of that tonight."

"What do you do with them?"

Her head turned towards him sharply and she narrowed her eyes. "That is not your business. But-if you are inclined to think that I keep hordes of cadavers at my disposal you would be mistaken. I do not disrespect the dead in such ways. I will only trap a soul until I feel their debt to me has been repaid. Once the debt has been satisfied, I release the spirit...enabling it to pass on peacefully."

She frowned as she looked at him. "I can see that you disagree."

"Would it not serve you better to keep them? The amount of power you could wield would be unfathomable."

Madam Celestin grabbed his wrist violently and hissed. "To trap a soul for an eternity and deny them absolution is an abomination."

Tom looked at her hand in disgust and felt his back stiffen in anger, her eye's suddenly softening when she realized her mistake and released his arm. "While my practices might seem...unforgiving to others...I am not so cruel as to refuse a soul the opportunity to be at rest. You would do well to follow the same sentiments."

Tom looked at the disdain in her eyes and wiped the anger from his face, lightening the mood between them. "Forgive me for my ignorance, it was merely a question."

Her mouth let out a small laugh and she smiled reassuringly. "Curiosity is natural. I'm sure your mind must be swimming with questions. Come, let me escort you back."

He nodded silently as they walked past the large pool of blood he had spilled earlier and out from the large tomb, his mind racing.

" _The Inferi ritual has proved most intriguing and while I can appreciate its meretricious methods, they will not do if I should ever find myself in need to amass a large number of them...Now that I've witnessed the process myself, I'm sure I can make a few adjustments of my own."_

He stole a glance at Madam Celestin as she walked next to him, her skin stretched tightly against her high cheekbones, her face as young and vibrant as his own and what he had not thought to question earlier, suddenly struck him as unnatural.

" _She is nearly twice my age, yet she looks to be no older than thirty. How can this be?_ " He looked towards her hands and smiled wickedly, although the skin was tight and firm, he noticed the age spots that had suddenly appeared, scattered atop her flesh that gave her secret away. " _Ah..so that's how it's done..._ "

"How long have you resided in New Orleans?"

"Too many years to count my dear Tom."

"I see. Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but how is it possible that a witch who has resided in this place for-as you have described it- so long, does not look a day over thirty?"

Madam Celestin narrowed her eyes at his question and let out a small laugh. "I should have anticipated that you would notice…"

"I have, although I must admit I did not at first."

"There are many ways to retain a youthful appearance...but none are permanent I'm afraid." She smiled wickedly as they continued to walk down the tunnel together. "And there are many ways to maintain power as well...but there will always be those who seek to take your place."

He grinned smugly. "I've noticed you are very close with your shopkeep."

"Yes. She has worked alongside me for many years...I've taught her everything she knows."

He let out a small laugh as he turned towards her. "How long will it be before you kill her and assume her identity as well?"

Madam Celestin turned towards him abruptly, her eyes twinkling dangerously as he continued.

"You see, I noticed your polyjuice potion is wearing off...your hands-" He motioned towards her. "-gave it away."

She gave him a mischievous look and waved her hand in front of him. "How astute of you."

"So that is how you maintain your power."

"Beauty is an illusion and youth is a powerful tool...I would be lying if I said they had nothing to do with my success. You see, one can not dabble in the spirit world or within the Dark Arts for too long before they take their toll."

"How many names have you stolen in order to protect your legacy?" He spoke softly, his dark amber eyes upon hers.

"One can hardly live as long as I have and maintain power without question and suspicion. I knew if i wanted to continue my reign I would have to transform many times over and when it is time for this identity to _retire_...I will start anew."

"Does she know?" He asked gently.

"Of course not." She smiled smugly. "Not everyone knows the price they have to pay when they come to me for help. Some have larger debts than others." She turned her heads towards him, her voice cold. "You will forget this conversation we had tonight."

He laughed softly and shook his head. "I have no desire to spread your secrets, it was only a mere curiosity."

" _...and I've just ensured that I have the upper hand regarding our situation._ "

Madam Celestin eyed him suspiciously and stopped walking, her voice less friendly than it was before. "Now that our time has come to and end...It is time for you to fulfill your part of our agreement."

Tom's eyes flashed greedily as her hand reached towards her robes and he knew what she was going to ask. " _The gem...if I were to attain a gem of that size, I would be able to fully realize the stones potential without having to worry about wasting the little scraps I have..._ "

He placed his hand on hers and clasped it in his gently. "I'm afraid our arrangement isn't complete. This was only the first of two things you promised to me."

"So then...you have finally decided to accept my offer?"

"I have." He said quietly.

"Then it appears we shall spend one more night together."

"It appears so." He let a small laugh and then frowned, quickly thinking back to Lyra.

"I see you are still worried about your mon cheri." She smiled exposing her bright white teeth. "I told you there is no need to trouble yourself. Bring her with you tomorrow and meet me on the banks of Bayou St. John at eight o' clock."

He nodded as they made their way down the dark and damp tomb and frowned once more, his wind wandering back towards Lyra. A nagging ache erupted in his chest and he reluctantly turned towards Madam Celestin, daring to ask a question whose answer he felt shouldn't matter to him.

"Will you help her?"

She sighed and sucked her teeth, a dark look overtaking her features. "I was not lying when I told her I may not be able to solve her problems. I sense something very dark within her...something that I am not familiar with."

He mulled over her words quietly as they passed the rows of coffins that let back to the steps they had descended down.

"You are concerned about her."

"I am concerned about binding myself to something I cannot control."

Madam Celestin laughed and gave him a wry look. "While I understand your concern, that is not why you asked the question. You care about her fate more than you'd like to admit."

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "Perhaps."

"These things are natural...you should not have to choose between your desires. You need only know how to discern between them and do what is more beneficial to yourself in the moment."

He considered her words silently as they reached the steps and she nodded courteously, signifying to him that their time spent together was at an end. He grabbed her hand and raised it to his mouth slowly, placing a gentle kiss upon it.

"Our time spent together has been quite enlightening. I admire your talents and I am honoured to have been allowed to witness them." He said softly, turning around to make his way back up the steps.

"It has indeed. I look forward to tomorrow Mr. Marvolo."

Tom nodded curtly at her before he ascended up the steps and back out into the night air, his mind racing.

* * *

 **OK. Long chapter and it took me a lot to write and rewrite until I was satisfied. So one whole Tom chapter...and we now know how to make an Inferi. It was really hard to write all of this without going into the religious aspect of Vodou, JK Rowling has written so little about it so there isn't much to go on as to how it works in the world of Harry Potter. That being said, I hope you all enjoyed it, thank you so much to my new followers and don't forget to follow, fav & review if you enjoy it! Xxx**

 **BTW My next update might take a little longer since I'm heading back to work, but don't fret if it takes a little longer than a week! I promise you it'll be up!**


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